


This Student Life

by Mirufey



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bad student Tsuna, Bad tutor Bianchi, Confused teenager Lambo, Crack, Drug dealer Mukuro, Gen, Gokudera is a high-achieving student, Innuendo, Tsuna is So Done, sassy!Tsuna
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-06-05 05:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 31,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15164111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirufey/pseuds/Mirufey
Summary: Reborn arrives in Japan to train the next Vongola heir, who turns out to be a frustrated and near-insane university student.





	1. How to Fail Your Finals

**Author's Note:**

> First published on 25 December 2016 and still on-going as of July 2018.

Tsuna was sitting on the toilet with a textbook on his lap, seriously considering turning its pages into toilet paper when his mother knocked on the door. With genuine worry in her tone –  _bless her soul_ – she was going about with her half-hourly checks to make sure he hadn't frozen to death whilst camping inside the bathroom in nothing but his birthday suit.

"I'm coming!" the brunet yelled back, almost dropping the one thousand, four hundred and twenty-nine page monstrosity as he found his discarded boxers and hurriedly pulled them up. Peering through the mirror by the sink, he saw the  _thing_  – reflection - on the other side: a lifeless creature with pallid skin, bruise-like rings under the eyes and greasy hair that hadn't been brushed since last week. His armpits were unshaven and sticky too, from nervous sweat despite the chilly winter, and he could smell the funky odour filling up the bathroom.

And it wasn't just from the sweat.

He quickly wiped himself clean, hoping his mother wouldn't notice anything out of the ordinary, and opened the door just a crack.

"Ah, there you are, Tsu-kun!" she quipped with ever-startling brightness. She clasped her hands together and leaned forward, delighted that he was indeed still alive. "You were taking a long time and Mama was getting worried!"

"I was having stress diarrhoea," Tsuna deadpanned, hiding his hands behind his back.  _And absolutely nothing else_ , he added in his head.

Suddenly the door flew backwards, sending him sprawling across the frigid tiles in a mess of limbs. For a moment he simply lay there, seeing stars, thinking he'd finally kicked the bucket. Then he was enveloped in pain from the impact and he thought he was dying instead – a short step away from actual death.

"Tsu-kun!  _Noooo Tsu-kun!_ "

Damn. If he died, his mother would be upset.

With a deep sigh, he peeled himself off the floor and lifted his head, glaring at the now fully ajar door. His mother rushed over to help him up, her eyebrows furrowed and her hand over her mouth in shock.

And behind her…

"I am the home tutor Reborn," a high-pitched voice greeted forebodingly from the shadows. "I will be instructing you from now on, Tsuna."

The brunet rubbed his eyes and cocked his head to the side questioningly.

An infant, about the size of his textbook, wearing a suit and a snazzy fedora leapt into his line of sight. He had the evillest black eyes Tsuna had ever seen, ones that sent a shiver down his spine. By pure survival instinct, the brunet scrambled to his feet and backed away.

"Mum," he said in a low voice, "Why is there a baby in our house?"

Sawada Nana beamed, holding up a piece of thin glossy paper. "I found an interesting flyer in the mailbox this morning, Tsu-kun! It says, 'I will train your child to be a leader of the next generation. I am very good-looking and will tutor twenty-four hours a day in return for food and board.' I know you're struggling with university, so I called them back immediately! Isn't this great?"

"I'd hope the tutor would be a babe, but definitely not a  _literal_ baby." He rubbed his eyes and sighed. "That hurts, mum. Are you implying that my intelligence is below that of a child's? I don't need a  _baby_  to- _OW_!"

A flying kick to the face sent him crashing onto the bathroom floor for the second time. The infant moved close to him, onyx eyes glinting with murderous intent. "Would you like to repeat that, No-Good Tsuna?"

"…Nope," Tsuna groaned, slumping onto the tiles. He didn't even bother getting up. He didn't ever want to get up. He wanted to sink into the floor, preferably all the way to hell.

Fuck his exams.

The weird infant-but-not-infant paced around, appraising him. Tsuna hugged his textbook, suddenly feeling over-exposed. Well, it wasn't like there was anything to look at – if he had a decent body he would've became a stripper long ago because that sounded a lot more promising than studying some bullshit degree. Horny but filthy rich people could pay bucket loads, while internships merely offered passion pay.

Reborn didn't appear impressed with his reaction at all. The brunet yelled in agony as a tiny foot pressed down the small of his back, crushing his bones and internal organs. Somewhere at the back of his head, he wondered if the infant was even human.

"Get dressed, No-Good Tsuna or you will be late for your exams."

" _Nooooooo_."

And then Reborn was  _there_ , his creepy onyx eyes filling Tsuna's entire vision and making the brunet's heart skip. Heat spread across his cheeks when he realised just how close he was. He could feel the tips their noses touching, and the infant's warm breath kiss his lips –

He stiffened.

Reborn abruptly pulled back, a wicked grin on his face. Tsuna was left breathless and wondering what the fuck had just happened and  _just how wrong it was_  –

The infant parted his lips, the smirk widening. "And if you don't arrive on time, No-Good Tsuna," he said in a low voice that sent hairs bristling at the back of his neck, "I will tell Mama  _exactly_  what you were doing in the bathroom for hours."

Tsuna had the feeling Reborn  _knew_. He was facing the devil in human form. So he promptly clamped his jaw shut and obeyed.

* * *

"There's this international student in my lectures and tutorials who is utterly insane," Tsuna complained to Reborn later that day. "He's one of those over-achievers who never stops asking questions and argues with the lecturers until they're rendered speechless. During today's exam, he kept requesting more writing booklets when I couldn't even fill up my first one. Oh, and he stole another one of my pens. How anyone can bullshit more than three pages about Japan's foreign policy?"

They were back at Tsuna's house, snacking on whatever was left in his pantry to 'celebrate the end of finals'. His mother had gone shopping, and Reborn was reading some articles on his tablet. Now that he suddenly had heaps of free time, Tsuna considered being a model son and helping his mother clean the house. Perhaps after a long, steamy shower and some hot noodles.

He opened a cupboard and grinned triumphantly when he found what he had been searching for. "Coffee?"

Reborn glanced up. "It better be the best coffee I've ever tasted, or you're dead."

The brunet pretended to not notice the warning in his tone. "Okay then, I hope you don't mind instant coffee." He opened a packet and poured the contents directly into his mouth. He bent over and gagged, his face turning red. "B-Bitter!"

Reborn watched him with disgust.

Well, the coffee was some expensive brand that could only be purchased in Europe, so Tsuna was totally fine with it. It couldn't be helped that it failed to suit his new… _tutor's_  tastes.

"Speaking of which," Tsuna said casually, turning on the kettle, "Why are you in my house again?"

The answer was instant and absolute. "I'm here to train you to become a mafia boss."

"I better hope it's the Vongola Family, then. Being a mafia boss sounds a lot more attractive than working at a fast food restaurant – or worse, being unemployed – for the rest of my life."

 _That_  seemed to pique Reborn's interest. "You know of the Vongola?"

"You'll be surprised at how much random shit I know." He shrugged. "I like to read a lot of articles on the internet when I'm procrastinating from studying."

The annoying smirk returned. "Excellent. You are next in line to succeed the Vongola Family. So, I'm here to train you to be the next boss."

There was the sound of a key turning and Tsuna's mother emerged from the front door, carrying several shopping bags. The brunet moved to help her, bracing himself for the three questions she asked him every afternoon.

"How was your day, Tsu-kun?"

" _Fiiiiiine_ , mum."

"How was uni?"

" _Gooooooood_."

"Did you see your friend today?"

Reborn immediately raised an eyebrow. "Tsuna has friends?"

"Oh Reborn-chan, Tsu-kun talks about Gokudera-kun a lot! The handsome exchange student from Italy! They attend the same classes so it's no wonder they became close friends!"

Tsuna returned a smile that was painfully forced. "Yeeeeeeah he's doing fine. He was… _happy to see me_  as usual."

"That's wonderful! You should invite him over to our home! Any friend of Tsu-kun's is welcome here!"

When his mother moved out of earshot, Tsuna leaned close to the infant and hissed into his ear, " _I definitely don't have friends_. But it'll break her heart if she finds out the truth."

"Oh?"

He sighed. "But for some dumb reason, Gokudera thinks we're friends. Apparently accepting my pens was a sign of our bonding." His eyes widened and he gripped the edge of the table intensely. "Oh my god. You won't believe what he said to me today."

Tsuna burst out laughing, cheekiness glittering in his eyes. "He said he wanted to be my right hand. To help me feel better about the exams."

Reborn raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"I said I didn't swing that way and told him to shove a stick of dynamite up his ass. And then explode."

"Explode?" his mother echoed, appearing genuinely concerned. "Isn't that dangerous?"

The brunet stretched his arms behind his head and smirked devilishly. "Well I guess it'd leave him all raw and writhing between the sheets in agony."

The infant smacked a palm across his own forehead while his mother asked whether she should call the ambulance.

"Is he always like this?" Reborn asked his mother. "With these terrible… _innuendos_?"

An innocent smile. A clueless expression. "Why, Tsu-kun likes to joke a lot!"

Tsuna winked right back at Reborn and blew at one of his curly sideburns. "Welcome to my student life, kid."


	2. Avoiding the Over-Achievers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 31/07/18 - Changed the year from 2017 to 2018. Although I wrote a large portion this fic in 2017, most of the referenced memes in later chapters are from 2018.

**Semester 1, 2018**

**Week 1**

The first week back to university meant the swarms of human traffic, stretching from the bus stops to the middle of campus. It was only slightly better than the week before, when everyone had rushed to purchase their textbooks, whilst the new students and their doting families meandered around the campus with their selfie sticks. Above, the sky was a sobbing grey mess, echoing the sentiments of later year students, and serving as a grim reminder of what would happen to those who did not study.

 _This is the third year it's rained on this particular week_ , Tsuna thought, as he trudged along with the crowd. For the twentieth time that morning, he glanced down at his watch.  _Thirty more minutes_. Infrastructure developments in the city meant significant transport delays, but he couldn't believe he'd underestimated the campus queues at such a critical time.

He bolted as soon as the crowd thinned out, mud splattering onto his clothes and his lungs wheezing by the time he reached the Examination Hall. The invigilator guarding the door was waiting for him with her arms crossed, her expression unsmiling.

"U-Um, I'm here to take my supplementary exam," Tsuna stammered, scratching the back of his neck. His watch read 8:59AM. Less than a minute left. "I lost my student I.D card but-"

The invigilator took his backpack and ushered him inside. "Everyone knows who you are," she said in a smug yet disappointed tone. "You've been failing your exams since first year, Sawada Tsunayoshi."

* * *

" _IT'S OVEEEEEEEEER!_ " Tsuna shrieked with glee as he grabbed his backpack and left the Examination Hall when time was up. The invigilators and other students shot him irked glares, but he spared them zero fucks. The exam was over, he was free, and now he could play computer games until his self-proclaimed hitman tutor returned from his business trip to Italy.

"Yo Tsuna, fancy seeing you here," a familiar voice quipped. Tsuna whirled his head around and broke into a grin. It was Yamamoto Takeshi, his failure buddy since high school. Not that they'd ever been friends, but after constantly bumping into each other in supplementary exam halls, they'd found a common ground.

"I was hoping you'd passed all your courses you know," Tsuna drawled, sticking out his tongue. "What did you fail this time?"

"Calculus, actually." Tsuna raised an eyebrow. Yamamoto chuckled sheepishly in return. "It was harder than I expected, haha."

 _No shit, Sherlock_. They'd both failed maths back in high school. Fortunately Yamamoto had only taken the course as an elective. Whoever had told him that calculus was easy to study for alongside baseball training had played a cruel joke on him.

At least in Tsuna's case, it wasn't too hard to bullshit his way through his Foreign Policy exam. He'd written about two pages for each essay question, in an immaculate display of penmanship. All in black ink as well, because exam markers allegedly preferred it over blue. In the multiple choice section, he'd also circled 'B' for everything, trusting the internet article claiming that 'B' had the highest chance of being the correct answer.

Plus, he'd actually studied. Sort of. Against his will of course, but Tsuna was determined to not let sour memories kill his mood.

" _Heeeeeeeey Tsunaaaaa!_ "

 _Fuck_. He grabbed Yamamoto's arm, urging his failure buddy to walk faster, pretending he didn't recognise that insufferably familiar voice. They went under the rain, the two of them breaking into a hard sprint, before they sought refuge in an old science building.

"Tsuna? Are you okay?" Yamamoto asked with a frown, as Tsuna gasped for breath. "Wasn't that Gokudera, the guy who presented his thesis at the undergraduate conference?"

"I have absolutely no idea who he is or what you're talking about," Tsuna hissed, combing his drenched hair from his face with his fingers. Now his orange hoodie was soaked. If he got sick, maybe he could apply for special consideration for that exam. "And since when did you attend undergrad conferences on politics?"

"Haha I-"

"Sawada Tsunayoshi!" Gokudera's voice interrupted, much, much closer this time. Tsuna desperately scanned his surroundings for a distraction or excuse to escape. With despair, he realised the building was both abandoned  _and_  stripped bare.

"What are you doing here?" Tsuna snapped, as Gokudera caught up without a sweat. Damn him and his long Italian legs. And damn Yamamoto's even longer legs.

"I saw you on the way home from the library!" Gokudera answered cheerfully. He held up his bags and Tsuna gaped in horror at the sight of at least a dozen textbooks of varying subjects and sizes. "Most of the books were returned over the break, so I'm reading all the prescribed and recommended texts, as well as others I've found relevant to my courses!"

 _What a freak_. He had to get out before Gokudera's disease spread.

"Wow you must be very smart!" Yamamoto complimented, beaming his ever-present smile. "To me, textbooks are so dry!"

"Well maybe you're just stupid," Gokudera retorted.

Tsuna winced. Yamamoto laughed like it was a amusing joke. Seeing that the two were distracted, Tsuna scurried away, hoping to escape to the cafeteria before they noticed.

"Hey Tsuna, wait-! Tsuna, wait up!"

Tsuna sighed and turned around. "Gokudera. What. Do. You. Want."

"I wanted to tell you that there's an event at my dorm soon," Gokudera continued, enthusiastic like a puppy. "There will be free sausages supplied by the Western Culture Club! Want come over and hang?"

 _I'd rather hang my own neck_. "I'll pass. I've got something on today."

"Hmm?"

"I'm uh...meeting up with a friend."

Gokudera blinked with confusion. "You don't have any friends."

Tsuna scowled at him. "I have a  _girl_ friend!" he shot back, indignant. "There's a hot babe waiting for me at home. Italian, dark-haired, and has the sexiest sideburns I've ever seen."

Yamamoto, being the blessed soul he was, ate it all up and started patting Tsuna on the back.

"So you're a man now, Tsuna!" he said with a wink.

Gokudera had dropped his bags, his textbooks spilling onto the floor. His hands covered his mouth. His eyes bulged. "No way. How long have you two been together?"

 _Might as well go the whole way_ , Tsuna thought, resisting the urge to smack his own forehead. "About two months. We've been sleeping on the same bed." He leaned in close, close enough to catch a whiff of cigarette smoke from Gokudera's hair and clothes, before dropping his voice to a whisper. " _And my babe touches me everywhere_. I've got the love marks, if you want to see."

He had plenty of bruises and cuts from running in the woods every morning. And whatever punishment Reborn had inflicted upon him for screwing up in his studies. Not that anyone else would know, though.

But at least Gokudera was socially adept enough to retreat after that comment, even though his mouth opened and closed as if he wanted to keep asking questions.

"Well, have a good time with your girlfriend, Tsuna! And nice meeting you too, Gokudera. I'll see you guys around!" Yamamoto said, waving at both of them. He zipped up his windbreaker, shivered in the icy wind and jogged away.

Well. Tsuna hadn't really expected that to work so well.

Once Yamamoto was out of sight, Gokudera bowed down to him, newfound respect glittering in his eyes. "I apologise for the misunderstanding, Tsuna," he said earnestly, before picking up his bags of books. "I will leave you now."

"Much appreciated. But maybe you should chase after him, you know," Tsuna quipped, gesturing at the direction where Yamamoto had run off to. A devilish smirk spread across his lips, and he chuckled. "He might not seem like it, but Yamamoto  _loves_  sausages. Maybe you should ask  _him_  to hang."

"But I-"

" _Shhh!_ " Tsuna placed a finger tenderly over Gokudera's lips. "So how do you ask him out? You want to know? I'll teach you a simple technique - all you do is go up to him, look right into his eyes and repeat what I say next very, very carefully. Got it?"

"I think so?"

" _Got it?_ "

"Yea, I've got it…"

"Alright. Repeat:  _Baby, I want you to treat me like your homework._ "

"B-Baby I want you to treat me like your h-ho- what the heck?" Gokudera spluttered, his face turning red. At Tsuna's glare, he sighed. "Fine.  _Baby, I want you to treat me like your homework_."

Tsuna bit his lip, suppressing a snort. " _I want you to spread me across your desk and do me all night long_."

"Tsuna, you-"

Tsuna threw his head back and chortled, tears gathering in his eyes. "Well, it's better than The Hand or ramming a stick of dynamite up your own ass, Gokudera," he snorted back. "And did I mention that Yamamoto is crazy about balls?"


	3. Getting Free Shit on Campus

**Semester 1, Week 2**

It was another perfectly miserable day at university, with the usual lengthy queues, bone-crushing crowds and weather that refused to cease its melodramatic sobbing. Tsuna tried not to scream as he glared at the muddy ground and stomped into puddles, wondering why the hell he agreed to come to campus when he didn't even have class.

At last he reached the rendezvous point, a cafe that was notorious for making cappuccinos with sagging froth, also known as saggaccinos. Around him were a dozen later year students, who'd filled up entire tables with textbooks and notepaper. There was a student who looked like she hadn't slept in a week, loudly talking to herself whilst making a concoction of coffee, energy drink and beer. Tsuna gaped in horror as she downed it in one go without batting an eyelid.

They were probably students stuck with finals for their summer courses, those poor souls.

"Um, excuse me," a kid with huge spectacles and bad acne said shyly, taking a seat opposite to Tsuna. "Are you Sawada-san?"

"Tanaka-san?"

The kid nodded and bowed, his movements slightly stiff and nervous. Typical of a first year. With a smug smile, Tsuna removed his old Foreign Policy textbook from his bag and slid the one thousand, four hundred and twenty-nine page monstrosity across the table.

It annoyed him that he didn't end up turning the textbook into toilet paper or tossing it into the incinerator as he'd intended to during his finals last year. He'd envisioned that moment for months, but unfortunately textbooks were expensive and he had a student debt to repay.

The first year beamed, holding up the textbook as if it were a holy scripture. Or a porno magazine. He flipped through the pages, glowing with the kind of naive eagerness to learn that would surely wane before the semester was over. He then frowned. "Shouldn't I get a discount because of the stains and crinkled pages?"

Tsuna gave him a deadpan stare. "They are the blood, sweat and tears of its former owners," he answered gravely, waving away his question. They were mostly greasy food marks, and water damage from the time he'd accidentally dropped it into the toilet. "Our spirits reside in this textbook, and will bless you throughout the course."

The first year hesitated, then lit up and bowed. "I-I see! Thank you, senpai! I will work hard!"

The kid paid him and bought him a saggaccino in gratitude. Tsuna barely concealed his snort before sauntering away.

 _Just you wait_ , he thought with sadistic pleasure, imagining the kid's luscious black hair turning grey and his face shrivelling into cobwebs of wrinkles. The textbook's esoteric political theories were enough to make anyone want to drop out of university, get hooked on hard drugs and become a stripper.

But pride blossomed in his chest. There were perks to failing finals and having to hold onto his textbooks until he passed his supplementary exams. At the start of every semester, the textbooks at the university bookshop sold out as fast as tickets to a Blood & Pepper's concert. So unless the kid wanted to wait another month and risk falling very behind, he'd have to settle with Tsuna's third-hand copy, sold at a grossly inflated price.

Tsuna grinned wickedly and rolled up his sleeves. He was one step closer to being a badass mafia boss with awesome business and negotiation skills. Reborn should be proud of him.

* * *

The Clubs and Societies Day was a highly anticipated event held later that week. It was the event where representatives from every student-run group could set up stalls to market themselves and attract new members. Later year students waved flyers and handed out goodie-bags, trying to con their underclassmen into paid memberships.

"I'm only here for the food and freebies," Tsuna told the fifth person who'd tried to get him to join their club. "I am not interested in doing unpaid work, saving the environment, donating blood or becoming a Communist."

"We are the Celibacy Club!"

Tsuna stared at him. "Clearly that's where you belong, with that face of yours," he intoned. He reached into pocket and handed over a grape flavoured condom, whilst patting the student pityingly. "Don't leave it in the foil for too long. They taste weird when they expire."

Taking advantage of the guy's flabbergasted state, Tsuna grabbed two packets of jelly beans and added them to his loot. He'd already collected a stack of sticky notes, a handful of pens, a reusable coffee mug and even a fidget spinner. Sometimes he had to act like a clueless first year student to get them, but that was a piece of cake given his short stature.

As he slung his bag of booty across his shoulder, he spotted a stall manned by three barefooted students dressed in white bed sheets. They wore olive wreaths on their heads, and one of them was also wearing a long blond wig styled like Botticelli's Venus.

"Is this a new club?" Tsuna asked, awed by the amount of skin they showed. Although their university's dress code was pretty relaxed, the majority of students still dressed conservatively out of respect for the academic staff.

"Yes, we are the Western Culture Club!" one of the other guys answered in heavily accented Japanese. "We have a toga party on Friday night for first years, but all new members are welcome!"

"We've got free food, free booze and free entertainment," the blond guy added with a coy wink. "All you need is a bed sheet and you're all set!"

" _Tsuuuuuuuunaaaaa!_ "

"Food, fuck and fun is my motto," Tsuna said seriously, reaching for his wallet. "How do I sign up?"

They had him enter his student details into a spreadsheet and he passed them a 1000 yen note to join. The three guys at the stall chatted away, giving Tsuna tips on how to bleach his bed sheets if he had "those kind of stains."

" _Tsuuuuuuuunaaaaa!_ "

 _Fuck_. He really wanted to know how Gokudera managed to find him every time he was on campus. It wasn't like he stood out in appearance amongst the thousands of other students. Maybe he should file a restraining order, because these encounters no longer seemed like coincidences.

"Hey club president! We've got 73 new members since this morning!" the blond Venus exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.

 _Club president?_  Tsuna eyed Gokudera's get-up - the usual designer suit, polished oxfords and rectangular spectacles. The classic mature-age student look that appeared to be Gokudera's preferred university attire. Then he switched his gaze back to the blond Venus, who had an expectant expression on his face as he handed the laptop over to his...club president.

"I just had a meeting with my thesis supervisor," Gokudera began, giving the laptop a dismissive wave. "There's a world youth conference in Newcastle at the end of the year, and I've been invited to present my research on the feasibility of head transplanta-"

"Yo Gokudera, Tsuna!"

Unlike the silver haired asshole, there was someone who always popped up at the perfect time. Yamamoto emerged from the crowd soaked from head to toe, hugging a thin stack of papers.

"Hey Yamamoto, what's up?" Tsuna said, munching on his jelly beans.

"I just came back from the Examinations Office!" Yamamoto replied, holding up his stack of waterlogged exam papers. "Scored a 52! And they accepted my application for special consideration!"

Tsuna patted him on the elbow, mainly because he was too short to reach his failure buddy's shoulder. "Good job!" he cheered. "Congratulations for passing semester 2, 2016!"

"You passed your supplementary exams right, Tsuna?" Gokudera asked, desperate to remain relevant in the conversation.

"Yeaaaaaaah," Tsuna drawled, but smiled when Yamamoto patted him on the head.

"I'm still choosing my final elective though," Yamamoto said. He turned to Gokudera, who flushed at the sight of his wet shirt hugging his body. "Do you have any ideas?"

Gokudera glared at him furiously. "Not for an idiot who failed calculus."

"Hey, I scored 50 in my supps," Tsuna defended. "And I'm still deciding on an elective too."

"...In that case, I took quantum mechanics last semester and won first prize for presenting my research on-"

"Yea, ignore him," Tsuna said apologetically to Yamamoto. Gokudera had become so absorbed in analysing his scientific hypotheses that he probably hadn't realised he'd started speaking Italian halfway. "Quantum mechanics has a 70% weighted final exam. No thank you."

Gokudera blinked, and switched back to Japanese. "Then how about organic synthesis-"

"You need to be enrolled in a medical science program for that, Gokudera."

"I know!" Yamamoto suddenly said, as if a lightbulb appeared above him. "I've always wanted to play baseball abroad in America. Maybe we should continue with our English studies!"

"Weekly quizzes. A group assignment. Four classes a week, but only a 40% weighting for the finals. Are you sure?"

"The finals for calculus was 50%. We just need a good group to carry us. I think we've got this, Tsuna!"

* * *

Tsuna was halfway across the road to his house, absentmindedly playing with his new fidget spinner and humming along to J-pop when there was a deafening ' _BANG_.' The plastic toy flew from his fingers, disintegrating into dust mid-air. Tsuna froze, dread pooling in his stomach as he wondered which of the two deaths he preferred - death by bullet or by car collision.

"Fidget spinners are banned in my presence," a squeaky voice proclaimed. "I declare the trend officially dead."

"You were gone for only four days, Reborn," Tsuna groaned, rubbing his sore hand. The impact from the gunshot had left his fingers trembling. "What was I supposed to do with my hands in the meantime?"

As soon as he'd uttered the words, the infant hopped onto his head and violently yanked his ear. "My dear student missed me? I'm at loss of words, Tsuna."

Tsuna glared at him resentfully. "I take it that your business in Italy went well."

"Swimmingly," Reborn replied, as cool as ever. "Tell me how your exams went."

"I passed everything!" Tsuna answered, crossing the street to his house. "And  _goddamnit Reborn,_ will you put that gun away, are you  _that_ keen to empty your load into me-"

"It's an improvement." The Leon-gun morphed back into a chameleon, but the iron grip on his ear did not relent.

Better to change the subject then. His mother was still out shopping, so he couldn't rely on her to protect him if his hitman tutor decided to give his body extra cavities.

"Hey Reborn?"

"What?"

"The guys at the Western Culture club told me that the Romans used to bleach their togas with piss and chalk." He tugged the waistband of his pants and wiggled. "Care to find out if it works?"

Reborn hopped off his head, jumping onto the kitchen table to stare Tsuna down with his narrowed, evil eyes. "Your break time is over, No-Good Tsuna. If you don't beat Gokudera in your next finals, there will be  _torture_."

Tsuna laughed nervously. "Aren't you a little young for that kind of fun, Reborn?"


	4. Group Assignment Horrors

**Semester 1, Week 2**

"I don't fucking believe this," Tsuna hissed, "Why is the lecturer teaching this course entirely in English?"

Beside him, Yamamoto could only give a nervous chuckle in response. "I think it's a higher level course? We studied English in high school, so they've assumed we already know the foundations."

"This sucks  _dick_ ," Tsuna complained, but shut up when other students turned to give him the evil eye. High school had been three years ago. Although it had been his best subject back then, nothing decayed language skills faster than disuse.

If he wasn't trapped in the middle of the lecture theatre, Tsuna would have bolted by now.

From his seat a few rows back, Tsuna could make out lengthy, diligent notes on Gokudera's laptop screen. The silver haired freak was sitting directly in front of the lecturer with a copy of the play in hand, nodding and grunting along to the analysis. Occasionally he would raise his hand to ask questions or argue against the lecturer's interpretation.

When they began debating on the significance of Act II of Shakespeare's  _Hamlet_ , Tsuna gave up pretending he understood anything. He pulled out his phone and started playing Tetris.

Twenty minutes later, he yawned and rubbed his eyes. He swore the wall clock was broken. After losing his tenth game, he used the university's internet to torrent a film adaption of  _Hamlet_. And then the entire seventh season of an American medieval fantasy drama, with Japanese subtitles of course.

"Alright, and that concludes this lecture," the lecturer said at last, switching to Japanese.

 _YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!_ Tsuna slammed his laptop shut and stuffed it in his bag,  _so_  ready to see the sun again -

"- but before you leave, is anyone willing to be the student representative for this course?"

The students in the lecture theatre averted their gazes. Gokudera studied them with a frown. He raised his hand. "Ma'am, I-"

"Excuse me, sensei," a dark haired girl near the front interrupted, her skirt fluttering as she rose to her feet. Her voice had an edge of disdain, and it sounded vaguely familiar. "I would like to be the class representative."

"Hey, that's Kurokawa Hana from middle school. Remember her, Tsuna?" Yamamoto said, nudging Tsuna's side.

Ah. The self-proclaimed best friend of his junior school crush. The one who'd ordered her guy friends to beat him up because he was 'different'. Wonderful memories.

Yamamoto caught Tsuna's expression and dropped his smile. "Right. We should support Gokudera then." He grabbed Tsuna's wrist and forcefully made him fist pump the air. "Go President Gokudera!" he shouted with a wide grin.

Chatter erupted amongst the other students. "Hey, that's Gokudera Hayato, the president of the Western Culture Club, right?" a bald young man asked his friend. "They had this awesome sausage party at my dorm! Dude you should've come!"

"He helped me with my essay and I got full marks!" another student chipped in.

"Yea I agree! Gokudera's Literature study groups are amazing!"

"Kyaaaa and he's so handsome!" a girl by the windows squealed, followed by enthusiastic affirmation from her friends. "Have you seen how he can go from hot sexy student to bad boy?"

Gokudera all but  _preened_  under the praise, his cheeks glowing pink from getting his cock sucked. With the class representative position sealed, he bowed to the students, giving a short speech about how honoured he was to serve as the liaison between the students and the language faculty.

Kurokawa curled her lip with distaste and sat down.

With that out of the way, the class was dismissed, except for Tsuna, Yamamoto, Gokudera, Kurokawa and a Eurasian girl with violet hair and an eyepatch, who were asked to stay behind.

"You seem a bit advanced for this course, Gokudera-kun," the lecturer was saying to Gokudera as the other students drained out of the lecture theatre.

Gokudera adjusted his spectacles. "I've lived in London for two years, ma'am. I'm going back to England to present at a conference in December. Passing this English unit was a requirement to represent this university."

Kurokawa cleared her throat. "Excuse me, sensei, I have another class starting soon, so could we please make this quick?"

"Alright. The five of you have all enrolled late, so I'll place you in the same group for the group assignment," the course convenor explained, adding their names and student numbers onto a spreadsheet. "The instructions are in the course outline and I've gone through all the assessment requirements in the first lecture. Make sure you watch the recording, and come see me during my office hours if you have any questions."

Gokudera and Kurokawa glared at each other. She was probably pissed that the lecturer had added Gokudera's name to the top of the list, thus making him the de facto team leader. With an indignant huff, she picked up her designer tote and stormed out of the lecture theatre.

Tsuna watched the drama unfold, wishing he had popcorn. "Hey Yamamoto," he mused, "On a scale of 1 to 10, how screwed are we for this course?"

"Screwed?" Yamamoto echoed with a hint of mischief. "We can ride on President Gokudera for good grades!"

* * *

Tsuna shouldn't have agreed to this group assignment meeting.

They were at a cafe in the city, because Gokudera and Kurokawa were both coffee addicts and jointly argued that their university cafe's saggaccinos were an offence to all coffee drinkers in the world. Unfortunately that was the last time the duo agreed on anything, and Tsuna's patience was wearing thin.

"Goddamnit, could you shut up and listen to my ideas for once, you bitch?" Gokudera was yelling, banging his fist against the table.

"Who died and made you our leader?" Kurokawa spat back. "I am a woman with  _opinions_ , you asshole. Do you know how fucking sexist you are? Oh wait, you're a guy. You clearly don't understand."

"Are you fucking retarded?"

"Excuse me?" Kurokawa retorted hotly. "As a matter of fact, I have just returned from my exchange program at Harvard. And do  _not_ throw around the term 'retarded' so casually. That is demeaning to those who are actually retarded."

"Like you," Tsuna murmured into the copy of  _Hamlet_ he was hiding behind, eager to throw in some shade. All throughout middle school, Kurokawa had insulted his intellect, kicked him to the ground as he struggled to fit in, and now that things weren't going her way, she had the audacity to use fake feminism to twist their words!

As expected, his classmate whirled on him, her groomed eyebrows shooting up. "Say that again," she hissed. "You think just because I'm a girl-"

"You're such a hypocrite," Tsuna answered bluntly. "Stop using political correctness and feminism to hide your nasty personality. There's a reason you have no friends. Even back in middle school."

" _Saaaavaaaage_ ," Yamamoto breathed. He opened his mouth again, probably to commend Tsuna for standing up for himself being the true bro he was, but Tsuna was just so done he shut everyone up his most potent death glare.

" _What the hell is wrong with you all?!_ " he shrieked, pulling at his hair and feeling entitled to throw a tantrum, even though he hadn't even read the assignment question himself. "It's been an hour, and all you guys do is fight!" He glared pointedly at Gokudera and Kurokawa, who'd inevitably gone from intellectual debates to ad hominem attacks. Then there was Dokuro, who hadn't uttered a word since 'hello' and was glued to her phone. "Can you believe it, I don't think this person even speaks Japanese!"

"That was extremely racist, Sawada," Kurokawa sneered. "It's because of people like you that society continues to-"

"Do you have a problem with my sister?"

A navy haired man leaned over their table and slung an arm around Tsuna's shoulders in feign friendliness, startling the latter from his rage. His clothes reeked of burnt leaves. It was so overwhelming that it couldn't have been from a legal substance.

Oh god. A gangster. The perfect new addition to today's drama.

Opposite to him, Gokudera had set down his glasses. He ran a hand through his silver hair, messing it up, and undid the top button and sleeve cuffs of his shirt.

"Who are you?" Gokudera said evenly, staring down the stranger. To Tsuna's awe, he acted so...  _natural_ that his classmate could've been a gangster himself.

"I'm not here to fight." The stranger turned away from him and pinned Tsuna down with saccharine smile. "I asked you a question. Do you have a problem with my sister?"

Tsuna twitched in his seat. At first he was going appease the gangster, because those mismatched eyes were creepy and it looked like the guy wanted to skewer him alive. But his hair,  _oh god his hair-_

"Are you an arts student by any chance?" Tsuna snickered, pointing at the stranger's unfortunate hairstyle. It was shaped like a fucking  _pineapple_. Pity it wasn't dyed green.

"More like, does he even go to university?" Kurokawa snorted. "Just ignore him, he's not worth our time."

"University isn't a measure of intelligence and success you know," Gokudera demurred. "For all we know, he could be a CEO."

"Like a drug dealer or hitman or something," Tsuna supplied helpfully. Wait, why were they defending the gangster again? "Which would mean he's actually smarter and richer than us."

Worry flashed in Dokuro's eyes. "Mukuro is not-"

"Alright, everyone," Gokudera sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Sorry to cut this short, but I have a meeting with my professor in half an hour. I've...actually done the assignment already. You guys can pick the font or something..."

"Wingdings?" Yamamoto quipped.

His classmate returned such a withered look that even Tsuna felt sorry for him.


	5. F is for Free Booze

**Semester 1, Week 2**

Tsuna had never been to a nightclub before. And as he stepped into the  _Colosseum_ , he was pretty sure he knew why he avoided them in the first place.

It was dark and stuffy inside, and seizure-inducing disco lights flickered fervently on the dance floor. The dubstep and heavy bass made his heart lurch and tremor. It was freaking uncomfortable and Tsuna wanted nothing more than to block his ears and curl into a ball.

Someone stepped onto his shoelace and he tumbled straight into a sweaty man. The guy was clad in the smallest bed sheet Tsuna had ever seen, and as a sweaty hand grabbed his waist to pull him up, Tsuna scrunched up his face, feeling somewhat violated.

He was about to leave - he'd been stupid, thinking that going to a club alone wasn't so bad of an idea - when Gokudera shouted his name and waved from a table by the dance floor.

Tsuna exhaled a breath he had been holding. He was  _glad_ there was a familiar face in the raucous crowd.

"H-Hey," he greeted awkwardly, playing with a loose thread of his own toga. The fact that he'd travelled in it on two trains without getting arrested was simply bizarre.

Gokudera had ditched his usual suit and spectacles, instead opting for a black slogan tee and silver chains. Cuffs adorned his ears and wrists, and...was that eyeliner?

"Glad you came, Tsuna!" the club president shouted over the music, grinning widely. He handed Tsuna a raffle ticket and stamped a star onto the back of his hand. "The raffle winners will be announced at 10pm, and here's your unlimited drinks token!"

"Errrr thanks." Maybe some booze would get him 'feeling' for the party. As he began to head over to the bar, Gokudera shoved past him to yell at a curly haired guy who was flirting with girls whilst sipping a cocktail.

"OI!" Gokudera grabbed the guy and dragged him to the side. "What did I say about underage drinking?!"

The kid lazily cracked open an eye and winked. "'Sup, pres?" he slurred. He was Caucasian and looked like a perfectly legitimate Roman in his toga, if not for the two horns attached to head. And those hashtags etched onto each cheekbone, which Tsuna hoped were not permanent.

Gokudera glared at the kid and pried the drink from his grip. And...was that a joint? "I don't care how you managed to fool the bouncer and Satoshi at the front table, but you're not getting away with it at my event."

The kid gave him a bemused look. "What?" he asked dumbly.

Gokudera slapped a hand across his own forehead. Then he sighed. "I know every member of the Western Culture Club and your student I.D clearly said you're 18, Lambo."

Busted, the kid burst into tears. He clawed at the air for his cocktail and joint, whacking other partygoers in alcohol-fuelled frenzy. Unfortunately for him, those around him were too drunk to care.

"Sorry Tsuna," Gokudera said with resignation as he began to drag the still howling Lambo off the dance floor. "I'll catch you later. Gotta make sure this dumbass gets home in one piece."

* * *

Tsuna lasted another seven minutes in the club before he escaped outside, gasping for fresh air. He slumped against the side of the building and set his Cruiser onto the ground to check the time on his phone.

"Mind if I join you?"

A tall man emerged from the shadows and leaned against the wall beside him. Under the moonlight and dim street lighting, Tsuna could barely make out the other man's features. But he was wearing a suit and shiny leather brogues, and had dark hair reaching his knees.

As the man lit a cigarette, Tsuna blurted, "Have we met before?"

That earned him a light chuckle. "I apologise for not introducing myself," the other man said, his voice low and seductive. "My name is Rokudo Mukuro. You are acquainted with my sister and Gokudera Hayato, it seems."

Oh.  _Oh._ "You're Pineapple!" He was that creepy gangster who'd crashed his disastrous group assignment meeting a few days ago!

Mukuro touched the spiky part of his hair and sighed. Then he pointed at Tsuna's gravity-defying locks. "Durian."

Well, it was better than 'No-Good Tsuna' at least. "So what are you doing here?"

"It's a public place. I have every right to be here," Mukuro drawled back, waving his cigarette.

With his senses no longer overwhelmed by the fog inside the club, Tsuna realised the cigarette didn't smell like burning tobacco at all.

He narrowed his eyes. "You're here to deal drugs."

"My my, jumping to conclusions are we?" The other man's lips curved into a smirk. "In fact, your friend-"

Suddenly Mukuro's phone rang, blasting an eerie score that sounded like it had come from a horror movie. He retrieved it from his pocket and frowned at the caller I.D.

"What is it?" Mukuro answered, his tone business-like but with a hint of annoyance, probably at being interrupted.

" _Mukuro-sama, Kaki-pi got arrested!"_  the voice on the other end cried.

Tsuna's eyebrows shot up.

Mukuro scowled, then lowered the volume of his phone. He glared at Tsuna, who took the cue to hobble away and stare at a nearby tree to give him privacy. Except there was a kid taking a piss under the same tree.

"Remain calm, Ken. Text me the details. I'll be there in ten." Waving Tsuna goodbye, Mukuro briskly walked to his sports car parked down the street and sped off.

The car looked freaking expensive and Tsuna wondered if he had prostitutes or something waiting in the back seats.

With nothing better to do, Tsuna picked up his Cruiser and returned to the bar. He'd paid to come to this event, so he might as well get his money's worth in booze.

* * *

"I am about to puke," Tsuna groaned as he stumbled through the door to his house, reeking of bad decisions. "Clubbing is  _so_ overrated."

Reborn was seated at the dining table, marking his essay. Rather sadistically, considering how much of the paper was drowned in red. "I hope you are aware that alcohol intoxication will not excuse you from your morning training."

Tsuna sighed dramatically. "I think death will pay me a visit first."

The hitman tutor paused to appraise him thoughtfully. "Do you have any regrets?"

"Not dying earlier?" Tsuna quipped, scratching his neck. He always got itchy whenever he had booze. Maybe it was an allergic reaction, like his Asian glow.

"Never mind." Reborn returned his attention to the papers before him. "Come sit."

Tsuna eyed the papers with suspicion as he joined his tutor at the table.

Instead of lecturing him on how shit his essay was, Reborn pulled up several photos from his tablet and his chameleon transformed into a tablet stand.

"This is Enrico," Reborn said, pointing at the screen as if it were a supermarket catalogue. Except there was a lot of red in the photo and it looked like a human had gone through a mincer. "He was the eldest son of Vongola Nono. He died in a gunfight and got run over by a car and his remains were smeared across the streets of Palermo."

"Awesome." It was really hot in his house. Tsuna removed the raincoat an old lady had thrown over his toga on the train ride home. Then he fanned his armpits and removed his socks.

The next photo was of the remains of another man, except he was lying in a bathtub and had brown, pruny skin. Reborn zoomed in to reveal maggots crawling over his rotten flesh and out of his eye sockets, mouth and nostrils.

"This is Massimo, the second eldest son. He tried to run away from the mafia and his body was later found in an abandoned house. Evidence suggests he slipped and hit his head too hard whilst stepping into the bath, but the Vongola declared it was murder and decimated the Pesca Famiglia anyway since the house was in their territory."

"That sucks. He might be a bit too late for taxidermy," Tsuna commented mournfully. Eek, how long did someone have to be in the water for to become like that?

Reborn was eyeing him intensely, so Tsuna slowly stripped off his toga with a smirk and that kind of sleazy wink he'd seen on Lambo. "Like what you see?"

The hitman tutor swiped left on his tablet. Tsuna almost cried. But he supposed an infant wouldn't know anything about Tinder for that to have been intentional.

"Vongola Nono's youngest and favourite son was Federico," Reborn continued. "He was a charmer and very good with women, much to the ire of their jealous lovers. Eventually he was killed by a vengeful husband and reduced to bones."

"Reduced to  _boners_ ," Tsuna corrected, then shrieked in laughter at his own humour. "May he rest in  _pieces_."

"Do you understand the point of this?" Displeasure washed over Reborn's expression. The Leon tablet stand flickered, most likely with every intention to morph into a gun, and Tsuna grinned.

"If you're trying to scare me, it's not working," Tsuna said. "I like to binge watch horror shows on Netflix."

Reborn wordlessly dumped his essay in front of him and Tsuna blanched.

His 3000 word paper was due in two days, and he still had that English group assignment to worry about because Kurokawa had filed a formal complaint against Gokudera, and the lecturer was now expecting evidence of their individual contributions. Then there were the upcoming mid-semester exams which left Tsuna quivering in his seat.

"You're right.  _University_ is the epitome of horror," he admitted weakly, nausea rushing back. Gosh, why did he drink tonight. There was no way he was going to get out of bed by 6am for whatever training his tutor had planned. And Reborn was going to make him rewrite his essay at gunpoint until it was Gokudera-standard.

"You should vomit it out," Reborn said smugly. He circled the '30/100' grade at the top of his essay to drive the knife in deeper.

Tsuna made retching noises but only tears came out. "I can't," he moaned miserably.

"Then shove something down your throat," Reborn deadpanned.

"Oh no, Reborn, you're gonna have to try a lot harder than that," Tsuna said, shaking his head condescendingly. "You gotta try my homework pickup line-"

Reborn kicked him in the abdomen and it's contents spewed all over his 3000-word poor excuse of an essay.

"What were you saying?" Reborn asked, his smile too sweet to be genuine. "Something about homework?"

Tsuna blinked and slowly trailed his fingers over the milky filth on his lips. "It wasn't supposed to end like that, Reborn,  _I swear_."


	6. Inviting Friends Over for Dinner

**Semester 1, Week 3**

A week later, Tsuna woke up to his mother being more chipper than usual as she hummed along to J-pop whilst serving breakfast.

"What's the special occasion?" Tsuna grumbled to himself. He made his way to the kitchen, feeling like a walking corpse as he vigorously scratched his arm. And leg. And butt. A fucking army of mosquitoes had invaded his room last night and they'd remained stubbornly alive, even after he'd emptied an entire can of bug spray.

Nana saw his swollen bites and giggled. Ha, she never got bitten with him around. "Good morning, Tsu-kun," she said sunnily, "Papa called this morning and said he's coming home!"

Tsuna stopped dead in his tracks. "What?"

"Papa's coming home!" she repeated, clasping her hands together in joy.

"Oh. Wonderful." He sat down, trying not to let the news sour his mood. Iemitsu rarely followed up with his visit announcements, but they made his mother happy regardless. Over the years, Tsuna found it easier to just give his mother more hugs when things didn't turn out the way she'd hoped.

"I'm going to prepare a huge feast for dinner!" Nana gushed, prancing around the kitchen in her cartoon apron and spatula. "Oh Tsu-kun, you should invite your friends!"

"Oh yes, you should," Reborn quipped, popping up from behind and snatching Tsuna's scrambled eggs.

Giving his tutor the deadliest glare he could muster, Tsuna dumped a load of chilli powder onto his lunch. A shame, since it ruined the flavour of his mother's food, but at least it kept babies with sticky fingers but sensitive taste-buds from stealing off his plate.

"Reborn was telling me about your friends, Gokudera-kun and Yamamoto-kun!" Nana continued. "Any friend of Tsu-kun's is welcome in our home!"

"Mum," Tsuna started to complain. Yamamoto was probably going to be busy with baseball practice or working at his sushi restaurant. And the thought of inviting the obsessive Gokudera to his private home - although Tsuna had to admit the guy was pretty cool at times - made him cringe.

"Alternatively, you could third-wheel Mama and Papa all night," Reborn added snidely. "I hear the walls aren't soundproof."

Tsuna resisted the urge to spike Reborn's plate with chilli. "Fiiiiiiiiiine," he groused, ignoring the mischievous glint in his tutor's eyes. "I'll ask them."

* * *

"Of course I'd love to come over!" Yamamoto answered cheerfully, slinging a amicable arm around Tsuna's shoulders. "That's what friends do!"

Tsuna blinked in surprise. Well. That had been easy. He'd never invited anyone to his house before, mostly because he didn't have friends. But Yamamoto had indirectly referred to their failure-buddy-slash-classmate relationship as friendship. Tsuna wondered if his ears were still busted from the club music last week.

"You know what, I'll bring over some sushi from the restaurant," his... _friend_  raved on, grinning as brightly as his mother had been. "This is so awesome, we gotta invite Gokudera too!"

They found their silver haired classmate in the library, buried in stacks of textbooks and typing furiously at his laptop. He had such intense focus on his work that Tsuna wanted to leave him alone. Unfortunately, Yamamoto had no such reservations.

"Hey pres, let's hang at Tsuna's place after uni!"

Gokudera shot up from his seat, and had this expression of such pure excitement that Tsuna seriously wondered what was wrong with these people. Sure, inviting people to your place at night was suggestive, but Tsuna had told them beforehand that his mum and 'baby brother' would be around, and maybe his father. Why were his classmates so eager to come over?

"I'm free after five," Gokudera said immediately, and began to type  _even faster_. "I can meet you there. Text me the details, Tsuna."

"Sure. And one last thing," Tsuna added, shooting Gokudera a sideways glance. "That insufferable suit  _must go_. It's a family gathering, Gokudera,  _not_  a networking event."

* * *

Gokudera didn't rock up to Tsuna's house in a suit, but he was dressed in a crimson dress shirt and black tie, matched with tailored pants. Compared to Yamamoto and his mother, who were in T-shirts and shorts, and Tsuna, who was in his pyjamas, he stood out exactly the way he did during their university lectures.

Iemitsu liked it though, the bastard wearing a suit himself. And just as Tsuna feared, his overachiever classmate had jumped on the opportunity to network with his father.

"Gokudera totally stole your dad from your mum," Yamamoto joked, watching amusedly at the two discussing...tax evasion?

Nana was busying herself in the kitchen, but stared dreamily at her husband from the door so often that her soup kept spilling. Rolling their eyes, Tsuna and Yamamoto helped her out, and then carried the dishes over to the dining table.

When everything was done, the five of them sat down. Thankfully Reborn wasn't present. Tsuna hadn't wanted to explain to his classmates why there was an articulate baby in his house who bossed him around.

So they sat. And ate. They talked about mundane things to try to break the ice, like the weather, baseball and university. Nana was happy to just stare at her husband, while Tsuna and Yamamoto attempted to crack jokes. Gokudera was vying for Iemitsu's attention, all too eager to talk about his head transplantation thesis.

All throughout the dinner, Tsuna refused to talk to Iemitsu. He was perfectly content to ignore him and let Gokudera and his mother entertain him, except…

...Except the bastard was smiling, and he was laughing as he reached for his wallet and slid his business card across the table to Gokudera. "If it interests you, I would like to invite you to intern with my company during summer," Iemitsu was saying, almost affectionately.

His classmate was grinning from ear to ear as he picked up the business card, clearly proud of establishing yet another connection in his ambitious career network.

Tsuna looked down at his food, stabbing the roast chicken and carrots. Iemitsu had never looked at him like that. But it didn't matter anymore. Iemitsu wasn't part of his family, and he only tolerated the other man's presence because his mother still loved him.

Gokudera had gone silent upon taking the card, his eyes widening slightly as he poured over the business name. Tsuna didn't know his father's company was that influential overseas. Iemitsu didn't tell him anything about his work.

The older man was peering at Gokudera with such intensity that Tsuna mulled over the possibility of the two having known each other in the past. Gokudera was Italian and Iemitsu worked in Italy. And if Reborn wasn't bullshitting him about the mafia business, Tsuna would have inherited his Vongola blood from his father's side…

But  _Gokudera_  being in the mafia?

Tsuna thought back to the way Gokudera had behaved so naturally around Mukuro during their first encounter. "I'm not here to fight," Mukuro had responded, almost defensively. The drug dealer had sensed the hint of threat Gokudera had displayed beneath his calm demeanour.

And then Gokudera had a struck a relationship with Mukuro, who was clearly connected to the underground. Before that phone call had interrupted their conversation, Mukuro had mentioned something about Tsuna's 'friend', presumably Gokudera, in response to Tsuna's accusation that he'd been present to deal drugs at the party.

It was true that Gokudera hadn't batted an eyelid when he'd caught Lambo with a joint though. Even when recreational drug use was absolutely taboo in Japan, and being caught with it mean your life was over. Perhaps Gokudera knew they'd be able to get away with it, because he was so well acquainted with breaking the law.

Something feral glinted in Iemitsu's eyes. He faced Gokudera directly, posture dominant and regarded him with a steely gaze. "What do you say about the internship?" he asked evenly, as if he were about to close a deal after successful negotiations.

Gokudera's fingers trembled around the business card. "T-Thank you, sir. I'll think about it," he replied, bowing his head stiffly. Moisture glistened on his forehead, and he dropped the card to wipe his hands on his pants.

His voice was also a pitch too high. Another telltale sign of apprehension. Tsuna knew it all too well.

He didn't understand why, but the way Gokudera had suddenly become so small made Tsuna want to fling the pot of soup at Iemitsu. His classmate's cheerfulness and passion had morphed into wariness, and Gokudera flinched at the other man's movements as if expecting to be attacked.

Beside Tsuna, Yamamoto frowned at the exchange. He lightly elbowed Tsuna's side and discreetly slipped out his phone to make a call.

Moments later, Gokudera's phone rang, echoing throughout the silent room.

"P-Pardon me," Gokudera said shakily, glancing at the caller I.D. To his credit, he didn't glance in Yamamoto's direction but both Tsuna and Yamamoto received a tap on their foot in gratitude. "My professor is calling, and I'm expecting a discussion about the thesis draft I submitted last week…"

He stood up, awkwardly thanking Iemitsu for the internship opportunity and mumbled about how honoured he was to be in his presence. Then he bowed to Nana and Tsuna, thanking them for their hospitality. Finally, he nodded at Yamamoto, gratitude and relief evident in his expression.

Iemitsu's business card remained on the table, wrinkled along the edges.

As Gokudera was about to duck under the door frame to leave, Reborn sauntered up the front steps like a celebrity arriving fashionably late. Tsuna caught Reborn and Iemitsu exchanging glances, and the remaining colour drained from Gokudera's face as he regarded the infant hitman tutor before him.

Recognition.  _Fear._

"Long time no see, Hayato," Reborn drawled with a triumphant smirk. "Or should I say, 'Smokin' Bomb Hayato'?"


	7. When Uni Saves Your Life

**Semester 1, Week 3**

Gokudera wasn't surprised when he returned to his dorm to find Bianchi sitting on his bed, examining the single framed photo on the nightstand. A photo of him and his mother during their better days, smiling as she taught him how to play the piano. Just months before they'd killed her.

"I told you not to come after me."

His sister stood up and slowly paced around the room. Underneath her goggles, she regarded him with a soft gaze, so perfectly staged that it would've fooled anyone but him. "I wanted to see you," she said, a hint of sadness in her tone. "Father and mother miss you."

Gokudera withdrew his cigarettes from his pocket and lit one, his occupancy agreement be damned. He inched closer to the piano where he'd stored dynamite inside the stool. "I'm not coming back," he told her coldly. "Your business has nothing to do with me."

Bianchi was silent for a long moment, running a hand through her pink hair, deep in contemplation. "You can't run from the mafia, Hayato," she finally said. "How did it feel when your friend turned out to be the Vongola heir?"

He knew this was coming. He knew she'd try to wound him this way.  _Yes_ , he'd been a fool to attach himself to Tsuna, when he hadn't even done a background check on the boy. He knew Reborn had left for Japan to train the young Vongola heir, but Gokudera would never have expected the heir to be his awkward classmate who lived in a small town and studied at a second-rate university.

But it didn't matter now. All he had to do was avoid Tsuna and Reborn and the Vongola. He'd never been a prominent mafioso or assassin, so they wouldn't want him in their Famiglia, just like all the other bosses who'd spat in his face.

No, Gokudera would carve his own fate, and if anyone stood in his way, he'd destroy them. Or disappear and start again.

The hardships he'd suffered when he'd run away after his mother had died had made him resilient. Adaptive. And while his sister upheld the life he'd once desired so desperately, Gokudera had tasted something far sweeter.

He'd embraced the life of a civilian, and now he resolved to never return to the mafia, where only nightmares remained.

"Get out," Gokudera said in a low voice, opening the door. "This is my home and you are trespassing."

"Hayato, please-"

" _GET OUT!_ " he shouted, grabbing her wrist and shoving her out of his room.

He slammed the door behind her, releasing a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. Then he opened the piano seat and reached under the hidden panel for his weapons.

* * *

Reborn found Bianchi skulking around the Sawada Residence the next morning. Tsuna had headed off to university, Nana was out shopping and Iemitsu had gone off to investigate a lead, so he took the initiative to invite the pink haired assassin into the house.

"You arrived sooner than I'd thought," Reborn said, hopping onto her shoulder. His chameleon flicked its tongue at her hair affectionately. "How have you been, Bianchi?"

The lady crooned over him just like the good old days, and then sighed. "Absolutely terrible, my love. I think Hayato hates me. For real."

Reborn raised an eyebrow. "Has he ever liked you?"

She scoffed at his question as if it were utter nonsense. "Hayato was such an adorable kid. He always ate my cookies before his piano recitals and Father said he loved them."

The hitman tutor tried not to laugh. Bianchi's special talent was turning anything she cooked poisonous. Her cookies caused hallucinations, and Gokudera had developed a fear for her cooking since. In fact, rumours said that he contracted severe stomachaches whenever he laid eyes on her.

"So why do you think your brother hates you?" Reborn questioned, as if it wasn't so obvious already.

"He kicked me out of his apartment, Reborn!" she cried, flinging her arms into the air. "Maybe I should have been more tactical with my words, but why can't he tell I'm genuinely concerned for him?"

"Mostly poor timing," Reborn muttered under his breath. Iemitsu had come to Japan to investigate a lead on a terrorist alleged to have survived the deplorable Estraneo Famiglia, but he'd recognised Smokin' Bomb Hayato in his house and decided to ruffle his feathers. Reborn had joined in too, mostly for his own amusement, but he'd forgotten how intimidating it was to have both the greatest hitman in the world  _and_  the Vongola  _consigliere_ staring you down.

"I wish you'd told me Hayato was in Japan earlier," Bianchi said miserably. "He was with your student all along! What took you so long?"

"I only met him yesterday," Reborn answered with a shrug. The name 'Hayato' had raised his suspicions, but Tsuna was an adult and Reborn saw no reason to follow his student everywhere or meddle with his friendships at university. He had lessons and training regimes to plan, and besides, Gokudera wasn't a threat and his strong work ethic was a good influence on Tsuna.

"I wonder what he sees in the Vongola heir," Bianchi said bitterly, crossing her arms.

"Tsuna's a Sky." Still undeveloped, but Reborn had sensed them during his initial evaluation of his student.

Bianchi snorted in response. "Of course. A stray Storm gravitating towards a Sky. How fitting."

Reborn remained silent. He jumped onto the kitchen counter to brew some coffee. He knew what Bianchi wanted, but she wouldn't understand why he'd made his decision.

"I want you to return to Italy with me, Reborn," Bianchi said quietly. "Forget about the Vongola heir - he's talentless, inconspicuous and hasn't even unlocked his Flames. Does he even have the resolve to become the Decimo?"

Reborn clenched his jaw.  _Yes,_  his student did have resolve, but it was still too risky to use the Dying Will bullet to unlock his Flames. Tsuna had literally told him his dying regret was not dying earlier. But there were other ways to unlock Tsuna's Sky Flames, and Reborn would work on that in time. As for the past few months, he had focused more on improving his student's physical condition and academic grades.

He didn't like what Bianchi was insinuating, though. Reborn had his pride. "It would be for the best if you do not insult Tsuna or undermine my achievements as his tutor, Bianchi," he replied sharply.

The pink haired lady swept a hand over the the kitchen, as if unable to fathom the situation. "This. This  _domestic life_  isn't cut out for you, Reborn," she argued. "Where is the greatest hitman in the world, traversing through the darkness and its shadows?  _Where is the Reborn I once knew?_ "

Reborn pulled down his fedora to hide his expression. "I'm staying in Japan, Bianchi."

Something deadly flickered in her gaze. "Then is it just the Vongola heir who's in the way?"

"If you kill Tsuna, your brother will never accept you," Reborn countered. "Tsuna doesn't know about Hayato's past. And when he learns of the truth, he will not abandon him."

Bianchi wanted to protect her brother just as Reborn wanted to protect his student. Although killing his student would free both Reborn and Gokudera, it was a completely unnecessary and illogical move.

She slumped into her seat and heaved a weary sigh. "I...need some time. There's something I need to tell Hayato before I return to Italy and fulfil my duty."

' _Let me stay with you,'_ he read from her pleading expression.

Reborn considered her request. "Your presence can be a good thing for Tsuna," he finally said. "I'll talk to Nana. How would you like to be my student's tutor?


	8. Shut the Fuck Up!

**Semester 1, Week 4**

Iemitsu left the day after that disastrous family dinner. He'd sent a colleague to pick up his belongings without even a message of goodbye to his wife. Upon seeing her crestfallen expression, Tsuna had enveloped his mother in a tight hug, biting down his resentment towards his father as he reassured her that he wasn't going to leave her too.

Nonetheless, Tsuna was glad Iemitsu was gone. They were already past the point of reconciliation, and Tsuna was content to just pretend the older man didn't exist. Give it a few more days and things would return to normal.

But as if the heavens hated him, there was a new, mostly unwelcome addition to his household: Poison Scorpion Bianchi, a tattooed, pink haired troublemaker who rode a motorbike in 15cm stilettos. Reborn had hired her on the spot, confident that she was more than qualified to be his second tutor.

_Yeah, right._

Sure, it was every man's dream to live with a sexy supermodel, even if she was a hitman who'd pretty much murdered everyone she'd slept with. And it had initially been a pleasure having a tutor who wasn't as strict as Reborn. But as it turned out, Bianchi was chill because she just didn't give a shit about her new job.

Tsuna had caught her  _sunbathing_ on their front porch for goodness' sake, using his English textbook to shield her face from the sun. Then she'd gotten fake tan stains all over the book's spine. And when Tsuna had approached Bianchi for help with his group assignment, she was using the book to  _swat mosquitoes_.

To be fair, his new tutor was fluent in ten languages and could probably kill him a hundred different ways. But when it came to home economics, Bianchi's food inexplicably caused odd reactions. At first, Tsuna had thought it was stress diarrhoea. But after it lasted past its usual three rounds, he suspected it was something far more sinister. Like food poisoning.

To test his hypothesis, he'd fed one of her purple cookies to his neighbour's chihuahua. The demonic dog had subsequently left a smelly surprise on his front doorstep and Tsuna resolved to never touch Bianchi's food again, even if they were covered in gooey Nutella goodness.

 _'More than qualified.'_  Sure, at this rate he was going to fail all his assessments  _and_  his mid semester exams. And food poisoning had never been an adequate reason for the university's Examination Office to grant special consideration.

* * *

It was on one sunny afternoon after university, when Bianchi pulled him from the couch and dragged him into the kitchen. She'd set up a mini lab and had a row of neatly arranged containers beside it, labelled with their chemical formulas. She was also wearing his mother's white dressing gown, probably as a lab coat substitute. A  _very flammable_  substitute.

"More poisons?" Tsuna asked, eyeing the setup with suspicion. He recognised some of the elements scrawled onto their lids - he'd memorised the periodic table back to front after all, because procrastination did terrifying things to you when you had exams.

Bianchi lit the bunsen burner, not bothering to put on safety goggles or tie up her hair. "Take notes," she ordered curtly.

Tsuna rolled his eyes before grabbing a notebook and pen, hoping he wouldn't trip and set the kitchen on fire like last time. His 'tutor' began mixing substances inside a conical flask, before heating it under the flame. As always, she was too fast for him to keep up so he ended up doodling stick figures within the notebook's margins.

"What are you making?" Tsuna asked twenty minutes into Bianchi's demonstration.

"Crystal meth," Bianchi deadpanned.

Tsuna facepalmed.  _Of course_. He shouldn't even be surprised. "How about something  _other_  than that?" he muttered.

Bianchi turned off the gas and dumped the chemicals into the sink. She gave the glass beakers and flasks a quick rinse before starting again.

"And...what is it this time?" Tsuna asked, already dreading the answer.

" _Viagra_."

* * *

"Maybe I should ask Bianchi to make study drugs," Tsuna groaned as he planted his face into his abused English textbook. He'd re-read the introduction ten times but his brain refused to process any of it. Wikipedia might have helped, but Reborn - that tiny asshole - had switched off the wifi and confiscated his phone.

Tsuna took two massive gulps of cold black coffee, glaring at the page of conjugations that might have well been written in hieroglyphics. Maybe he couldn't concentrate because was low on food energy. There was a McDonald's fifteen minutes away, and if he could sneak past Reborn out of the house to grab some chicken nuggets-

Suddenly there was a loud screech, jolting him from his thoughts. It sounded like an animal dying. Dismissing the extreme likelihood that he was inviting in more mosquitoes, Tsuna removed the flyscreen and stuck his head out to investigate.

_SCREEEEEEEEEEEECH!_

His jaw dropped. Beneath his window was a young man attempting to play the scales on his goddamn trumpet. At 11 o'clock at night. Tsuna had heard thumb-sucking elementary school kids play the recorder better than that.

_SCREEEEEEEEEEEECH! EEEEEEEEEEECH! SCR SCR EEEEEEEEECH!_

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Tsuna screamed at him.

"Sorry!"

Well, at least the guy got the point. The trumpet was zipped back into its case, and Tsuna waited for him to leave, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face.

But then the dumbass started to  _sing_. In some foreign language. It would've been quite a romantic serenade if only it wasn't completely out of tune.

"SHUT UP!" Tsuna yelled once again. "YOUR SINGING FUCKING SUCKS!"

The singing stopped.  _Thank god_ -

"Aunt Octavia says I am a great singer!" the idiot argued. He subsequently belted out a string of high notes with as much skill as his trumpet playing.

Tsuna covered his ears and slammed his head against his desk. His mug of coffee tipped over from the impact, pooling dark brown all over his textbook. It was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Shrieking bloody murder, Tsuna stormed into the bathroom, filled a bucket with water and dumped it over the guy who had dared to anger a stressed out uni student the night before a deadline.

A tortured, childish scream tore through the night. Tsuna dropped the bucket, his blood turning cold. What...what the hell had he been  _thinking_ , assaulting someone like that? The guy could've easily passed out from shock or caught a cold, and that trumpet looked expensive, and what if it suffered water damage...

Tsuna grabbed a towel and headed downstairs, past a smirking Reborn. He vaguely wondered if his hitman tutor's sadism was rubbing off on him, but dismissed the thought.

The guy was curled into a ball and bawling his eyes out when Tsuna found him. Thank goodness he was still conscious and alive. Tsuna wrapped the towel around him and helped him onto his feet.

"I'm sorry," Tsuna said shakily, "I'm so, so sorry - are you alright?"

" _Mia bella_ ," the lover boy moaned, loudly blowing snot into the towel.

Bianchi was supposed to be teaching him Italian, but she'd clearly failed when all Tsuna could do was nod solemnly and say " _Pasta_."

When the guy lifted his head questioningly, Tsuna recognised the Caucasian face and those horrible hashtags on his cheekbones. It was the kid who'd been caught drinking underage and smoking pot at the Western Culture Club's toga party. The one Gokudera had kicked out of the nightclub.

"Hey, I've seen you before. You're Lambo!" Tsuna exclaimed.

There was a feeble nod. "The towel smells like  _mia_   _bella_ ," Lambo lamented softly, touching the stained towel like a lover.

"That's my towel," Tsuna deadpanned. He was definitely going to have bleach that towel thoroughly. Fuck it, he should burn it.

"I saw  _mia bella_  sunbathing on your porch," Lambo continued between hiccups. "She is the most beautiful lady I have ever seen."

Tsuna sighed and scratched the corner of his eye. "Do you...wanna take a shower at my place?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound too creepy. "Sorry about the, um, water."

Lambo probably realised Tsuna's invitation meant he would be under the same roof as the lady he was fawning over. His signature sleazy grin returned, and suddenly he became very chatty as they headed back inside.

"So after that party, the pres wanted to send me home," Lambo was saying, "But I didn't have a place. He let me sleep on his couch for a few nights, and that's when his sister dropped by."

Tsuna choked on his saliva. "She's Gokudera's sister?"

"They do look alike. Those stormy grey eyes. And apparently I resemble her ex? That was fun. By the way, is she sleeping?"

In answer to his question, Bianchi stepped out of the bathroom, completely naked under his mother's dressing gown. She ran a brush through her damp hair, leaving clumps of pink trailing after her on the carpet.

All that hair around his house was surely going to block the vacuum cleaner's suction. Tsuna rubbed his temples at the thought.

"So," he began lamely, worried by the blood gushing out of Lambo's nostrils while the latter gawked at his second tutor. "Why did you come to Japan again?"

"I was sent to kill the greatest hitman in the world!"

Tsuna pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "I know exactly what you need."

Reborn was calmly sipping his coffee and reading an article on his tablet when Tsuna ducked into the living room for the medicine cabinet. "Hey," Tsuna said, "Do you know anyone by the name of Lambo?"

"Never heard of him," Reborn drawled back.

"Okay cool." It would've been too much of a coincidence if everyone around him turned out to be in the mafia. Unlike Reborn, Bianchi, Gokudera, Mukuro and Iemitsu, Lambo seemed too dumb to assassinate anyone, much less the greatest hitman in the world.

Tsuna found some paracetamol capsules, grabbed a spare towel and a change of clothes and brought them to the lover boy, who'd picked up Bianchi's pink hairball and was stroking it lovingly.

"Go have a shower first and then take one of these," Tsuna instructed, waving the capsules at Lambo. "Killing Reborn… Yeah, you're clearly feverish, kid."


	9. Gokudera Gets Roasted

**Semester 1, Week 4**

Gokudera didn't make it to their last group assignment meeting. As the deadline for his thesis loomed near, a bullshit 'critical analysis' on  _Hamlet_ was the lowest of his priorities. He'd more or less handed over the reigns to Kurokawa, who barely contained her glee as she made the rest of the group rewrite their sections. On the same morning the assignment was due.

"So," Tsuna began, trying not to feel too uncomfortable as their new team leader scrutinised his flagrant abuse of the English language. "Did you know that Australia has this cassowary bird that has two dicks dangling from its throat? Imagine dying and reincarnating into that thing!"

Kurokawa rolled her eyes. "If that happens, at least you'll finally have a dick," she mocked.

Tsuna puffed out his chest and made a face. "You want sum fuk?" he retorted. Good ol' memes from the Western side of the world. "But seriously, how fucked up do you have to be to end up as a cassowary? And have you seen those fleshy ball sacks on a turkey's neck?  _O horrible, o horrible, most horrible!_ "

He whipped out his phone and showed everyone the 'ugly birds' thread he'd been reading on the toilet. "Check out that pink, swollen and engorged piece of meat!  _O, that this too solid flesh would melt!_ "

Dokuro twitched in her seat, her cheeks flushing as she tried to refocus on the assignment. Noticing her discomfort, Kurokawa had placed her hands onto her own hips and stared Tsuna down, like a mother chastising her misbehaved kids at the grocery store.

But Yamamoto, being the awesome friend he was, leaned closer to take a glimpse at Tsuna's phone screen. He gasped in horror. "Is that a scrotum with a beak?"

Tsuna nodded gravely and scrolled to the next image of the genetically unfortunate: a brown bird with cartoonish features and lidded, yellow eyes. He roared with laughter. "It looks high as hell!"

"When I die, I want to be a potoo," Yamamoto agreed. " _O cursed spite, that ever I was born to set the bong alight!_ "

The girls weren't laughing along, being the killjoys they were. It made Tsuna feel like an asshole.

Sobering up, he checked the time. They had an hour before their assignment was due, and the Google Doc honestly looked fine. By this point, Tsuna really couldn't give a fuck about it as long as it scored above 50. But maybe he should change the font or something so that he was 'contributing'...

"Sawada, did you copy and paste your part from Sparknotes?" Kurokawa suddenly questioned with a frown.

 _Fuck._  "Um...I might've drawn some inspiration from it?"

"Oh, forget it you moron," Kurokawa scoffed, before deleting a night's worth of 'hard work' from the document. In seconds, she rewrote the entire section. "You do realise Turnitin will pick up on your plagiarism, and then we'd be screwed for this assignment?"

Yamamoto tilted his head. "I have a friend who's a hacker," he commented helpfully. "Maybe he could hack into our grades?"

* * *

"The mid-semester break, at laaaast!" Tsuna cheered, kicking off his shoes and stretching over their university's sunkissed lawns. "Time to marathon all my lectures and readings for my other subjects and absolutely not have fun!"

"We should have today off though," Yamamoto replied with a cheeky smile. He plucked a mushroom from the grass and pitched it at a flock of pigeons attacking a duck. "Maybe grab lunch at the food court and head to the arcade afterwards."

"Sound good. But hey, you know what's weird?"

"I'm listening," Yamamoto hummed, lying down with his arms under his head.

Tsuna fell silent for a long moment. Actually, this had been bothering him for a while. "Well, you know, I spent a good two years escaping from Gokudera on campus - I even joked about getting a restraining order - but ever since you guys came over… I...I haven't seen him since." Realising he probably sounded like Lambo fawning over Bianchi, he quickly added, "It's just weird, that's all."

"He's only got a month before the thesis has to be finalised and submitted," Yamamoto reasoned. "Professor Miyamoto has a reputation of being a hardass slave driver. Rumours say he was so unpopular as a lecturer that the university prefers to keep him locked in his office until there's a conference."

Tsuna wondered how Gokudera had persuaded the old man to be his supervisor. But he really didn't need to. "More like Gokudera has a reputation of being a masochistic workaholic," he muttered. "I guess it was love at first sight for them both."

"We were hoping he'd carry us in this course, but it's funny how it was Kurokawa who did most of the work!" Yamamoto rolled to his side and pinned Tsuna with an insufferable smirk. "I think you miss him. Gokudera, I mean."

"Well, I feel kinda bad for him since my dad was such an asshole." Under his friend's pressuring stare, Tsuna felt his face heat up. "C'mon, Yamamoto. Now  _you're_  being weird."

The smirk stretched like a cat. "Then maybe you should tell him."

* * *

"I have been a university student for over two years, and I am proud to say that I have never, ever attended a lecturer's consultation hours," Tsuna proclaimed as they headed up the stairs to the science faculty's offices, downing their saggaccinos. "No seriously, I suck."

The place smelt like fresh paint, and their footsteps echoed loudly through the hall. It reminded Tsuna of a hospital, with the white walls, laminate flooring and staff wandering about with lab coats, cropped haircuts and clipboards. As a clinically terrible student, it was one of the last places on campus Tsuna wanted to venture in.

"Hey, does this corridor look familiar?" Yamamoto asked out of the blue, glancing at the building map on the wall. "I swear we passed this place already."

"I was following you," Tsuna answered.

Yamamoto returned a pained chuckle. " And I was following  _you_. I think we did pass this place. I remember that frog painting."

"Well, someone once told me that ' _real_   _extreme men only go straight_ ,'" Tsuna answered with a snort. He contemplated asking the lady by the painting for directions, but he didn't want to seem even more stupid. "Let's keep heading straight until we see Miyamoto's name on the door," he suggested.

That dumb piece of advice was given to Tsuna by his middle school crush's brother, and it had strangely never failed him, despite how ridiculous it sounded. And it would serve him well once again.

" _WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?_ " a voice boomed, shattering the academics' respectful silence amidst the halls. "HOW DARE YOU BRING ME SUCH BULLSHIT!"

Tsuna winked at Yamamoto. "Jackpot," he said.

They lurked outside the door to eavesdrop, with Tsuna trying to peep through the keyhole for visuals. "He's totally getting roasted," he whispered to Yamamoto. "The professor's going berserk."

"' _Sun Flames have a regenerative attribute, and when combined with the propagative Cloud Flames, an abundance of neurons can be preserved_ ,'" the professor read out, his tone dripping with sarcasm. A stack of papers violently hit the ground. "Gokudera Hayato, are you trying to write a  _fantasy novel?_ "

"As a matter of fact, Sun and Cloud Flames exist," Gokudera argued back. "They are two of the seven elements of the Trinisette-"

"I have never heard of an assertion so egregiously unrefined and lacking in evidence! I will pretend I have not seen it!"

"Italy is the current leader in the field of Flame research, and during the Berlin Conf-"

"Gokudera Hayato, if you do not submit anything of substance by the end of the week, I will have my other research assistant present at the Newcastle Conference in your stead. I will not have an  _imbecile_  taint my reputation!"

"Professor, I-"

"Leave my office. If you wish to pursue a career as a children's author, you have no place here. International students these days, so arrogant and disrespectful..."

Yamamoto pulled Tsuna back as the door flung open, revealing their classmate in a crumpled shirt and slumped posture. Gokudera reeked of cigarette smoke and had the most miserable violet pools under his eyes. Even his feet were dragging as he headed out.

"I think you need this," Yamamoto said, handing Gokudera his saggaccino. "Rough day?"

"No shit," Gokudera shot back, removing his spectacles. He rubbed his temples and sighed. "I need a smoke. Fuck the uni's non-smoke policy."

Tsuna discreetly moved to Gokudera's side as they made their way down the corridor. "Hey, are you alright?" he asked softly.

"What do you want from me?" Gokudera replied, his tone cold and impassive. "All my work and notes for the group assignment should be on the Google Doc. I've done my part."

Tsuna and Yamamoto exchanged worried glances. Then Yamamoto broke into his usual friendly grin and slung an arm around Gokudera's shoulders. "We should all eat out to celebrate finishing that assignment!" he announced. He grabbed them both and began to drag them downstairs, forcing Tsuna to jog to keep up.

Gokudera roughly shoved the arm off and glared at Yamamoto. "I don't have the time for that," he sneered. "Do you not understand that I have a thesis to revise?" He balled a fist and shook it at his classmate's face. "Do I need to be more clear?"

Yamamoto was unfazed. "We're not letting you go until you've had something to eat."

"So you think you're my mother?" Gokudera spat. " _Piss off._ "

"Cigarettes are  _not_  breakfast, Gokudera," Tsuna added, crossing his arms and blocking the exit with his body.

The nearby elevator's door opened, and a small group of students stepped out. One of them glanced in their direction and lit up in recognition, before tackling Gokudera into a hug.

"Hey pres, how've you been?" the guy greeted, flashing a brilliant smile. He held up a document with the grade at the top. Full marks. "I scored this beauty, thanks to your help! Really couldn't have done it without you!"

Gokudera peeled his murderous gaze off Yamamoto and relaxed his posture. Although it was with reluctance, the corners of his lips crept up into a small smile. "Hey, Satoshi. Congratulations on your essay."

Satoshi hugged him again, like an excited puppy. "You're the best tutor ever, pres. I owe you one! And hey hey, our club's James Bond movie marathon is next week - want me to drive out tomorrow and grab some microwave popcorn and drinks?"

"That would be great. I'll put some club money onto a gift card and give it to you later today."

"Sure thing, pres! See you back at our dorm!" With a cheerful salute, Satoshi rejoined his friends and headed to the building's cafeteria.

When they left the science building, Yamamoto was smug as he turned to Gokudera once again. "Lunch," he said. "At Takesushi. With me and Tsuna."

That was when Gokudera realised too late that he was already smiling, proud of his student's achievements. And now that he was in a good mood, it was much harder to turn down requests.

A victory for Yamamoto then. Gokudera took the half-finished coffee as if it were a consolation prize. Yamamoto and Tsuna exchanged grins and the three of them made their way off campus to queue up for the bus, ready to go out and treat themselves.

Except Takesushi was the most famous sushi restaurant in Namimori, and it was going to absolutely bleed Tsuna's wallet dry. He just hoped he'd have enough left in his bank account to enjoy the arcade afterwards, and restock his tissue stash in preparation for his upcoming lecture marathon.

He supposed he should really get Bianchi to teach him how to make crystal meth and become a drug dealer like Mukuro. Or maybe he should just find a sugar daddy.


	10. Lunch Date Gone Wrong

**Semester 1, Week 4**

Taking Gokudera out for lunch was like dragging a grandmother to appreciate a teenage movie when all she wanted to do was judge dumb millennials for their bullshit. And then ditch them to play mahjong or something.

"Why don't you just do something with your lives instead of being so insouciant and  _ignorant_ ," Gokudera was muttering under his breath, clearly salty that he wasn't allowed to be productive. His fingers clenched around a packet of cigarettes resting on the tabletop as he glared at Takesushi's 'no-smoking' sign. "You know what - I'll be back in fifteen," he tried, rising to his feet.

"And where do you think you're going?" Yamamoto asked, flashing him a saccharine smile. "Show some respect to the owners of the restaurant, will you?"

"You just want to run away," Tsuna added, stepping on his classmate's foot so he couldn't escape.

"I should be getting back to the library," Gokudera argued for the tenth time. "I have to revise my thesis-"

"Nope, you're staying right here," both Tsuna and Yamamoto said in unison. Tsuna grabbed Gokudera's briefcase so he wouldn't do something ridiculous like writing his thesis at the restaurant table.

Yes, they were being assholes by keeping Gokudera against his will. But it was obvious that their over-achiever classmate was going to work until he passed out or died. And Tsuna definitely wasn't heartless enough to abandon him under such dire circumstances.

"I promise the food's really good here," Yamamoto persuaded, handing out the menus. "And as my friends, you guys get discounts."

Tsuna quietly dismissed all options with four-figure prices. He would much rather have dined at the cheap Chinese place across the road. They had great spicy ramen there with mouth-watering MSG soup, but Tsuna had this superstition that whenever he dined at that restaurant, he'd flunk his finals.

Gokudera on the other hand, was not afraid of throwing money. He slammed his credit card onto the table, barely batting an eyelid at the prices as they made their orders on the tablet attached to the table. And holy shit, was that a Louis Vuitton wallet? And a Rolex watch?

"This better be worth my time," Gokudera seethed, tapping on several dishes at random. He seemed to have a thing for celery. "And why do we need to pay for our order before it arrives? What restaurant policy is this?"

"Just to let you know, there's also a 1.5% surcharge for credit cards," Yamamoto answered cheerfully, completely unrepentant. "And would you like to leave a tip?"

* * *

"Oh my gosh you are the best, Gokudera," Tsuna gushed with his mouth full of chocolate. He held up a bag of soft toys and his glorious new fidget spinner, which Gokudera had won for him at the arcade. "How do you even get anything from claw machines?"

"You wait for those dumbass couples to give up after emptying their wallets," Gokudera explained, sucking on his icy pole. "The claw tightens after about 10 000 yen."

An upset girlfriend a short distance away had just slapped her boyfriend for missing a large Pikachu plushie for the nth time. It looked like she was breaking up with him over this. Tsuna felt bad for the guy, but at least the amusement park had gift shops.

"Hey hey, let's go to the shooting booth!" Yamamoto exclaimed, spotting a few staff members wearing bear costumes and holding water guns. Catching their attention, the bears squirted water at them, making Tsuna and Yamamoto shriek in delight as they ran under the stream.

Then the bears unanimously fired at Gokudera, who obviously looked like a prick in his suit and Gucci sunglasses. Especially when everyone else was in T-shirts and shorts or school uniforms.

"Off to the shooting booth!" Tsuna announced. He grabbed a fuming Gokudera's wrist and they made their way through the crowd of couples and kids. Then he made a beeline for the fairy floss stand, because no trip to the amusement park was complete without that fluffy goodness.

"How can you stomach that after all that chocolate?" Gokudera asked, frowning at Tsuna's poor life choices. "You'll get fat. Your metabolism slows down as you age."

"Candy satisfies whether it's hard, soft or wet and sticky," Tsuna drawled back with a wink. He raised his chocolate-coated fingers to his mouth and slowly sucked them clean. "Fuck, that was  _good_."

Gokudera rolled his eyes and muttered something in Italian. Tsuna ignored him and tugged harder at his classmate's sleeve so they could keep up with Yamamoto's quickly retreating back.

* * *

"I wonder what the odds of winning are for that giant Magikarp," Tsuna mused, when they queued up at the booth with the gigantic gunslinger bunny. They watched a middle-schooler receive a rubber ducky as a consolation prize after missing ten rounds. "You reckon it's rigged?"

"It's achievable," Gokudera answered in a heartbeat. Tsuna could envision the calculations processing through the genius' head as the latter launched into an esoteric explanation which had something to do with motion physics. He even talked in the same droning voice professors used whilst lecturing.

When they finally reached the front of the line, Yamamoto immediately fired his shot at the Magikarp, happily disregarding everything Gokudera had said in the last ten minutes.

The pellet hit the stand beneath the stuffed toys. A large crying emoji appeared on the screen, telling him to try again.

"Sooooo close!" Tsuna whined, pulling a face. He took the plastic rifle from Yamamoto and aimed for the same prize. The pellet landed about a metre away. The crying emoji morphed into a poop.

"Alright, we've got this, Tsuna!" Yamamoto consoled, patting Tsuna on the back. Suddenly a cheeky grin formed on Yamamoto's face and he turned around, slinging the gun over his shoulder, pointing at the Magikarp backwards.

There was a  _pop_  and the ultimate prize collapsed. For a moment, there was gobsmacked silence. Then Tsuna and Yamamoto cheered so hard that a nearby baby started wailing in its pram.

"OH MY GOD," Tsuna screamed, his eyes bulging like fish.

"OH MY GOD," Yamamoto echoed, flailing his arms.

Gokudera sighed at their childish antics. "Shooting still targets is a piece of of cake," he said matter-of-factly. "Even a child could do it with his eyes closed."

Tsuna's mind flashed to Reborn and he hastily shoved it away.

"Reckon Gokudera's used a real gun before?" Yamamoto asked Tsuna, unfazed by the shade thrown in their direction. "Hey Gokudera, you should join my Overwatch team - I'm almost silver!"

"You wouldn't be failing all your exams if you didn't spend all your free time gaming, you idiot," Gokudera answered.

"Hey, let's line up for the rollercoaster!" Tsuna quickly interrupted. They were at the amusement park to have fun for goodness' sake,  _not_ to discuss exams and poor studying habits!

Gokudera glanced at the roller-coaster with the rickety wooden construction and almost vertical drops, and turned a shade of green. "Toilet," he muttered, turning away.

Just when Tsuna thought he was going to escape again, Gokudera shook his head and handed over his briefcase. "Mind that for me," he said. "I'll be right back."

* * *

By the time the roller-coaster cart pulled up and one of the staff gestured for them to step inside, Gokudera was still jerking off somewhere in the toilets. Tsuna and Yamamoto didn't want to risk the Valentino briefcase being stolen from the lockers, so they begrudgingly left the line.

"What's with that guy?" Tsuna groused as he attempted to call his classmate. It went straight to voicemail, much to his frustration. "Even explosive diarrhoea doesn't take that long."

Yamamoto shot him a sideways glance. "The food was fine. He shouldn't have food poisoning."

" _Still_. We waited half an hour for nothing." The bathroom stalls were empty, so they wandered around the park, searching for the asshole in a suit.

It was starting to get dark, and the mosquitoes were lying in wait for their next feast. Unease stirred within Tsuna when his next three calls also went to voicemail. Gokudera always answered his phone or responded within ten minutes if he was busy. "Do you think he left the park?" Tsuna asked quietly, eyeing the shadows amongst the trees.

"He'd surely take his belongings beforehand, right?" Yamamoto replied with a frown. He lifted the briefcase. "This weighs a tonne. His laptop's in here for sure."

Tsuna agreed with that line of thought. "Do you think...this has something to do with 'Smokin' Bomb Hayato'?"

Yamamoto nodded, his expression turning grim. "We should search for a place without cameras. The back alleys of the shops and restaurants."

"Near the bathrooms," Tsuna deduced. "I think there's a back exit."

"Should we alert security? The police?"

Tsuna was already texting Reborn. He wasn't sure about calling for help since they didn't know where Gokudera was and how effective cops would be against gun-toting mafiosi. But Tsuna had keyed the emergency number into his phone and was ready to hit the call button at a moment's notice.

They made their way to the dodgier part of the amusement park, where there was even a sign for parents to make sure their kids don't wander off alone. The alleyway was lined with rubbish dumps and surely enough, there was a barred exit leading to a smaller park with an abandoned playground.

"Woah, is that dynamite?" Yamamoto said out of the blue, pointing somewhere amongst the forest of trees. "Over there, Tsuna!"

Tsuna couldn't really see anything because he was too short, but he took Yamamoto's word for it. They ducked under the low branches, Yamamoto leading the way. Suddenly Yamamoto stuck out a hand, driving them to a halt.

There were four men in suits by the playground. Gokudera was facing off against three stocky men -  _mafiosi_ , Tsuna's mind supplied - his hands full of dynamite. Still unlit, but a cigarette was already burning between his teeth. From the reciprocal snarling and violent gestures, all four were out for blood.

And cowered behind Gokudera was a small child, clutching a gigantic red book with a lost, faraway gaze.

Tsuna and Yamamoto exchanged glances, the latter nodding firmly in understanding as Tsuna slipped a metal object into his hand. Tsuna tensed, his heart hammering in his chest as he prepared for action.

When one of the mafiosi reached for his gun, Yamamoto suddenly pitched the fidget spinner at his balding head with a sharp cry. The man snapped to attention at the sound, barely in time to dodge the spinning metal. That fraction of a second was all Gokudera needed to set his dynamite alight and shooting towards his opponents.

" _RUUUUUUUUUUUN!_ " Tsuna screamed.


	11. A Rollercoaster of Emotions

**Semester 1, Week 4**

Their moment of triumph was immediately extinguished when deafening gunshots tore through the night. Tsuna dashed across the park after Yamamoto, narrowly dodging trees and fallen branches. They dove to the ground as explosions filled the air, thick smoke obscuring their vision.

There was another gunshot, followed by a high pitched scream. With his blood turning cold, Tsuna crawled behind a tree and peered into the fog. The child had collapsed and his book lay a metre away, with a bullet through its centre.

" _Shit!_ " Gokudera cursed loudly. He tried to grab the boy as the latter frantically lunged towards his book. But the boy's movements had been too predictable, and with a shrill cry, he collapsed onto the dirt.

Tsuna covered his mouth, nausea rising to the surface. They'd shot a  _child_. As he swallowed a deep gulp of air, Yamamoto rose to his feet, one hand clenched into a fist and the other tight around a stick. His friend's eyes were blazing with such intense fury that Tsuna instinctively shrank back.

"What are you doing?" Tsuna hissed at him. "They've got guns!"

Yamamoto jabbed his chin at the chaos behind them. At the unmoving child, and at Gokudera, who was locked in combat with the three mafiosi. "We're not leaving them," Yamamoto answered firmly. "I can't forgive them for what they've done."

In all honesty, Tsuna was about to piss himself. But there Gokudera was, already fighting tooth and nail to keep their asses intact, and Yamamoto was going to join him with a fucking  _twig_. However, there was no way Tsuna was going to help them win against the mafia when he'd only had as much training as a yellow belt.

 _Fuuuuuuck!_  Tsuna wanted to scream. It was better that someone escaped and called for help, right? He'd already called Reborn and the police but there was no sign of them. It wasn't like he could ring them now and let his phone light give his location away. He was only going to be a liability, and if Tsuna really was some kind of mafia heir then he could end up as a hostage!

Gokudera snarled as a jab caught him between the ribs. He whipped his head around, cutting through his opponents with a roundhouse kick. He dropped one knee, lit his dynamite with his cigarette and flung them towards the enemy. "Get out of the way!" he shouted at Yamamoto.

Yamamoto's grin was frigid and intimidating as he ducked, the dynamite sailing past his head. He had quick reflexes and smoothly evaded a punch to the face. His pivot left the assailant unbalanced, allowing Gokudera to knock him out with a hook to the jaw.

"How many left?" Yamamoto asked, narrowing his eyes at the fallen body. "Did you take them out with the bombs?"

Gokudera silently took the mafioso's gun and rummaged through his jacket for a spare magazine. Yamamoto surveyed their surroundings warily, his fists drawn and gaze alert. They moved as a pair, and found another unconscious body a few metres away at the edge of the explosion range.

"Shit, the last one got away," Gokudera murmured, alarm in his voice.

"Stay back or I'll shoot!"

Cold metal pressed against the back of Tsuna's head, sending chills running down his spine. And he froze like a deer in headlights, because  _fuck_ , the guy was going to shoot him and there was nothing Tsuna could do to save himself and why did he have to die when life was finally starting to look better?

Gokudera's eyes were wide and he shouted something at Tsuna, which fell deaf upon his ears. Ha. Tsuna really was fortunate to have met great people like Gokudera and Yamamoto, and to have them as his friends. It had been a lot of fun - the three of them having lunch at Takesushi, and hanging out at the arcade. If only those moments could have lasted forever.

"Tsuna!" Yamamoto screamed, making a move to run towards him. Gokudera grabbed his wrist, holding him back.

"You'll get us all killed!" Gokudera snarled. "Grab the child and get away from here!"

Yamamoto nodded and slipped into the shadows.  _Leave me too!_ Tsuna wanted to scream at Gokudera. But his friend was calmly standing before the mafioso, with both hands open and raised in plain sight. He spoke slowly in Italian, and the stolen gun was missing.

Then there was a powerful gust of wind and Tsuna caught a glint of metal in his periphery. There was a silhouette of a small figure high on a tree branch.  _Reborn?_  he thought, hope flooding him.

And suddenly a projectile pierced through his forehead and he fell back. It fucking  _hurt_ , and in that moment, Tsuna knew it was the end, that he was going to leave this life being useless. As someone who couldn't even help his friends at the face of danger. A perfectly shitty end for a loser like No-Good Tsuna.

And god, he wished he could take it all back. To go back in time and rewrite his actions, to jump in and save his friends, because now he was going to regret it for the rest of his afterlife.

"Tsuna!" Gokudera yelled, horrified as Tsuna slumped to the ground. He turned to the mafioso behind Tsuna, absolutely livid, and raised his gun -

But he was too late. The gunman had already aimed his weapon at Gokudera, and with a war cry, he fired.

Tsuna saw red. He saw  _fire_. " _REEEEEEEBORN!_ " he howled in agony, " _PROTECT MY FRIENDS WITH MY DYING WILL!_ "

* * *

They were in the hospital's hobby, Tsuna absentmindedly staring at the laminate floor whilst his mother argued with the receptionist about visitation hours. He vaguely realised that it was perhaps the second time he'd ever heard her raise her voice, but he kept his head down and stood a few steps behind her, nursing the sling on his arm.

"Ma'am," the receptionist repeated to his mother, "I'm afraid the patient is not accepting any visitors."

Nana shook her head firmly, her hands gripping the handle of the fruit basket. "Tell him we'll wait. I must thank the one who saved my son's life."

Tsuna leaned against the wall, his heart too heavy for him to remain upright. When Yamamoto's father stepped out of the elevator, he slid down and tucked his chin into his chest, feeling hollow now that he'd cried out all his tears.

"I'm here to see Sawada Tsunayoshi and Gokudera Hayato," Yamamoto Tsuyoshi told the receptionist. "They were both hurt from protecting my son."

"Gokudera-san is not accepting visitors," was the frustrated response.

"Are you Yamamoto-san?" Nana asked him sympathetically. At the latter's confirmation, she gestured in Tsuna's direction. "I am Sawada Nana. My son was there too."

Tsuyoshi walked up to Tsuna, got onto his knees and bowed deeply. "I sincerely thank you for saving my son's life," he said, emotion colouring his voice.

Tsuna nodded dumbly. The thing was, he hadn't really done anything that night. The fight was over as quickly as it had started. He'd felt a tremendous surge of strength after Reborn's bullet - this overwhelming  _need_ to take action - and he'd gone in fists flying. But in the end, Gokudera had been grievously wounded, and none of the hospital staff were willing to inform them of his status even three days after his surgery.

It was all Tsuna's fault, for not intervening earlier, for allowing things to escalate to the point where his friend had almost  _died_. He couldn't bring himself to face Bianchi, who'd rushed to the hospital the moment she'd been informed of the incident. And from the looks of it, she'd set up camp in the lobby.

A weight dropped onto Tsuna's lap. "How are you feeling, Tsuna?" Reborn asked.

"I feel like shit," Tsuna mumbled. He hugged his uninjured arm around the infant, and to his gratitude, Reborn did not resist. "But how can I complain, when my friend is somewhere in this hospital, on the verge of death?"

"I will explain what happened to you later. As for now, do you have anything to say to Gokudera?"

"There's so much I want to say but...I just need to know if he's okay," Tsuna answered miserably.

Reborn tilted his head. "Gokudera is awake. He's in room 394. Go visit him if you wish - I'll provide a distraction."

"Thank you," Tsuna said, hugging Reborn tighter. And he meant it. As soon as Leon began to transform, he bolted for the third floor, hoping to finally make things right.

* * *

"Hey," Tsuna said softly, closing the door behind him. "Are you okay?"

Gokudera was covered by a blanket, but his right leg was in a brace and there were crutches beside the bed. He stirred upon Tsuna's arrival and released a deep sigh. "Are  _you_  okay?"

"Yeah," Tsuna murmured. He eyed the seat beside the bed. "May I sit?"

"I'm trying to sleep."

"It'll only take a moment. Five minutes?"

Tsuna fidgeted to Gokudera's silence. He slowly approached the bed, and in response to the lack of protest, he took a seat. He pulled at the fraying hem of his shirt, suddenly at loss of words.

"It's not your fault," Gokudera reassured him after a lengthy pause, "There were two civilians and a minor on our side, against three men of honour with firearms. The odds were not in our favour."

Tsuna hesitated. "But I should've done something. Even Yamamoto helped out."

"And that's when things went downhill. Both of you should have stayed out of the fight. As for the kid, he should have valued his own life over that damned book. But I highly doubt he was fatally injured."

An image of the child collapsing into the dirt flashed through Tsuna's mind, making his stomach crawl. He hadn't heard from the kid since he'd been admitted to the emergency ward with the rest of them. "What makes you think that?" Tsuna asked.

"He's Fuuta de la Stella, an invaluable informant for the mafia. He's famous for his rankings, which he writes in his book, meaning that he is worth a lot more alive."

"You sure know a lot about the mafia."

Gokudera gave a humourless laugh. "My father was the boss of a small Famiglia. I was shown the ropes as soon as I could walk."

"That's...wow. I knew you were involved in something shady but you're like the model university student here. You know, working hard to make society a better place. On the side of the law and all."

"I wanted to leave. I was almost successful. But my sister was right - once you are part of the mafia, you cannot leave." Gokudera closed his eyes, but there was a wan smile on his lips. "I still can't believe  _you_ turned out to be the Vongola heir."

Tsuna tried not to be offended that the comment attacked his competence, but he figured Gokudera had meant no harm. "After what happened, I want nothing to do with the mafia," Tsuna said resolutely. "Wait, why the heck are you grinning?"

"I was just thinking that you are so unlike the other bosses. Perhaps following you would not be a bad thing."

"What? No!" Tsuna said quickly, shaking his head. Gaining a follower was definitely not his intention! "But I really appreciate you as a friend, Gokudera. And I know I've been an asshole to you, especially after you kept killing my pens and showing off how smart and rich you are. But you fought to protect us back there, and got seriously hurt while Yamamoto and I escaped with just a few scratches. You literally saved our asses and we can't thank you enough."

"I've...done a lot of unforgivable things in the past," Gokudera admitted. "You have also saved me."

"I was so fucking scared you know," Tsuna continued, his voice cracking. "After you got shot, I thought we'd lost you for good. That you'd died protecting us. How would you expect us to live with that?"

Suddenly the door slid open and a bedraggled teenager sauntered in, donned in a hospital gown and loudly munching on a packet of white cheddar jalapeño Cheetos.

"Are both of you...crying?" Lambo asked, completely misreading the atmosphere.

"Shut up," Gokudera sniffled, turning his head to hide his mortification. "It's hay fever."

"And university!" Tsuna explained hastily. "The mid-semester exams are making us all emotional!"

"Yeah yeah whatever," Lambo drawled, casually sucking the cheese powder off his fingers. "School's fucked me over too. In more ways that you could imagine."

"Do I even want to know?" Gokudera muttered, burying his reddening face into his pillow.

"We probably don't," Tsuna agreed, eyeing the tissue paper stuffed into the teenager's nostrils.

"Well I've got STDs apparently, which is why I'm here. Isn't that sick? I can show you if you want - hey, hey, stop ignoring me guys, I ain't kidding here!"


	12. Bachelor of Unemployment

**Semester 1, Week 5**

Gokudera's hopes of returning to his room incident-free were ruthlessly quashed when the dorm manager pulled him into the reception office, frantically informing him that one of the master keys had gone missing.

 _Back to work then,_ he thought as he changed into his uniform and went to inspect the security logs. The other Resident Assistant all but glared at him for his late arrival, and Gokudera almost felt bad for his week-long absence. Except he'd been stuck in hospital during that time, after having taken  _three fucking bullets to the chest_.

He technically wasn't supposed to work until next week, but the upper management were idiots and the place was perpetually understaffed. So he searched through the master key records, trying not to think about the shitty pay, while his coworker went on a building patrol. It was a brainless task albeit annoying, given that the computer was still running on Windows 98.

Nonetheless, it didn't take long before Gokudera spotted Lambo skulking outside his room through the security cameras with that dazed, lovesick expression of his. And just like that, he knew exactly what had happened and headed up to the fifth floor, already drafting the incident report in his head.

He found Bianchi seated at his piano, and the missing master key lying innocuously on the piano lid. With a deep sigh, Gokudera closed the door behind him and pulled out his desk chair.

"I guess I owe you an apology," he said quietly. "But I'm sure you understand where I was coming from."

Bianchi nodded, her gaze soft behind her goggles. "I wanted to see you before I returned to Italy. To make sure you were alright."

He'd heard from Tsuna that Bianchi had set camp in the hospital's lobby since his surgery. And as much as he'd questioned her motives back then and believed she was sent by their father, it had felt...nice. Nice that his wellbeing actually mattered to someone other than himself.

"It's not much, but I restocked your fridge and pantry," Bianchi continued. Gokudera grimaced at the sight of his rubbish bin overflowing with ramen cups, and the burnt pot on the stove. He was grateful she hadn't tried to clean it up, or worse, attempted to cook. "I've also ordered Chinese takeaway through UberEats."

Gokudera picked at the scab on the back of his hand. "Thank you," he said. And he really meant it. "You didn't have to."

"It was the least I could do," Bianchi answered with a small smile. "This is a pleasant town. I will miss it. And Reborn."

"And what brings you back to Italy?" Gokudera asked. "Work?"

Bianchi's expression turned rueful. "Our father is dying. Stage four liver cancer."

Gokudera stared at the wall behind her, his insides turning numb. "Of course. His alcoholism has finally caught up."

He didn't know why Bianchi was telling him this. He'd never been on good terms with his father, and they hadn't spoken since Gokudera had run away from the manor. Why should he care now? Why would he spare any emotion for the man who had barely been present in his life?

"There is no need to visit him, but I would like you to forgive him," Bianchi said gently. From her bag, she withdrew a box of letters. "These are letters your mother had exchanged with our father. The last five were returned to the sender."

Gokudera's fingers trembled as he took the box, regarding the familiar elegant cursive he'd seen over a decade ago, on the presents given to him by Miss Lavina. The beautiful and kind pianist who had been his real mother. "Where did you get these?" he demanded.

"When I agreed to inherit our Family, I was given additional privileges."

Gokudera wanted to grab his sister's shoulders, to make her tell him everything. "Does he know I have the letters?" he asked, unable to remove the desperation in his voice.

Bianchi shook her head sadly. "Father is not himself right now, but I am sure he would want you to know the truth. As much as I do."

"The truth about my mother?"

"He truly loved her, Hayato, even though it tore my mother apart." She walked over to hold him in her arms. "The truth is written in those letters. You might hate us for what we've done, but when the pain becomes bearable, I hope you will understand."

"I'm sorry," Gokudera whispered, leaning into her embrace.

"Soon it'll just be the two of us, Hayato. And before that, I want to make things right. If you need anything -  _anything_  - I will help you."

"Maybe there is hope after all." Gently removing the arm around his waist, Gokudera reached over his desk for his USB and placed it into Bianchi's hand. "I've been researching on medical uses of Sun Flames, combined with Cloud Flames," he explained. "The world isn't ready for this, but perhaps you could get Shamal to look into it. In addition to chemotherapy, this might be useful to...Father."

She swept her gaze across his chest as realisation lit in her eyes. "This is how your bullet wounds healed in a week."

Gokudera offered her a wan smile. "It was a success."

"Thank you," Bianchi murmured, embracing him once again. "This means so much to me, Hayato. Let us remain in contact after this. Please."

When he smiled, his eyes were prickling with tears. "Yeah. See you around, sis."

* * *

"If you have the time to mope around, then surely you are ready to score full marks on all of your assessments," Reborn began ominously as he emerged out of nowhere. "Like that 3000 word essay, which I hope you have finished."

Tsuna squeaked as his tutor hijacked his seat and opened his minimised tabs. As a matter of fact, he  _had_  finished his essay and was just about to start on referencing before getting distracted. "Y-Yeah, I'll get to it now. Sorry."

Reborn paused. "You were browsing through internships. Interesting."

Tsuna glanced away, suddenly feeling insecure. For some reason, this was more shameful than being caught reading hentai. "There was a careers fair at uni today," he reluctantly explained. "After hearing Gokudera constantly talk about his internships with the top companies and the government, I thought I should do something too, since I'm graduating next year..."

Reborn peered into his soul with his evil onyx eyes, seeing right through Tsuna's failures and deep lack of motivation. "You're a third year student with no work experience," he stated impassively. "Why would any company offer you a graduate position, much less an internship?"

"Damn it, Reborn," Tsuna complained, closing the tabs with indignation. "Contrary to popular belief, I am  _very aware_  that I'm a pathetic student who will probably remain unemployed for the rest of his life. But couldn't you have allowed me to  _hope_ , even for a second?"

"Show me your CV."

Tsuna eyed his tutor with suspicion but complied. He hadn't updated his CV since his high school careers workshop, but he hadn't done anything new other than starting his Arts degree. Perhaps he should volunteer for charity organisations and university clubs to gain more experience. Employers seemed to love extra-curricular activities.

His phone buzzed and a message notification popped up. "Hey, Gokudera invited us over for dinner. He's ordered Chinese takeaway from UberEats. Living that rich life, you know."

A silent Reborn was the most dangerous Reborn. Tsuna nervously tucked his phone away and obediently sat as his tutor scrutinised over his past-self's work. His immense sense of dread was something he was all too accustomed to now. Maybe it was time to seek professional help, except the university counsellors were always booked out a month in advance and private services costed about a week's worth of rent per hour.

"Change of plans," Reborn finally said, grabbing his tablet from the coffee table. "It's time you get a job, No-Good Tsuna. We will start by fixing your CV."

* * *

On Saturday morning, Reborn ordered Tsuna to print a few dozen copies of his new CV, dress in smart casual and catch a bus to the city mall. They had spent the previous night working on his CV, and it had been an enlightening experience, if not humbling. Tsuna was still amazed with how Reborn had reframed his lack of experience into a strong desire to learn, and it made him feel a lot more confident in his own skills.

That didn't mean the stores wanted to hire him though. So far, he'd been automatically rejected six times. A few other places accepted his CV and told him they were either giving it to their manager, who was conveniently away, or would give him a call if there was a position available. One cafe employee had even tossed his CV into the bin along with a plate of half-eaten toast.

"Can't blame them," Reborn said with a shrug. "It's understandable that casual employees might think you are threatening their job security."

"Yeah, and look at me, someone with zero experience. I'm totally a threat."

"Be patient," Reborn said, shooting him a sideways glance. "We all have to start from somewhere."

"Even you?" Tsuna asked. "Sorry, but I can't exactly imagine you flipping burgers."

Reborn offered his usual mysterious smile. Tsuna was about to press harder for information, when caught sight of a weird crepe-paper costumed figure dancing at the entrance of a stationery store.

"Holy crap, is that a Namahage?" he asked, gobsmacked. It was kind of creepy, and the nearby kids had clearly gotten the cue to stay away.

"Welcome to heARTbox, desu!" the Namahage greeted cheerfully, offering him a box of lucky dips. Then she turned to Reborn, who was sitting on Tsuna's shoulder, his smartass suit complete with his fedora and sunglasses. "Wow, how cute! Is this your baby brother?"

"My boss," Tsuna deadpanned.

"I'm Reborn. My true line of work is assassination," Reborn declared, pulling out his Leon-gun.

"And I'm looking for work," Tsuna added with a small wave. "My name is Sawada Tsunayoshi and uh, that's a nice costume."

The compliment made her dance harder, and jump higher. "I made it myself, desu! My name is Miura Haru! Let's see your fortunes, Sawada-san and Reborn-chan!"

With slight trepidation, Tsuna reached into the box and withdrew a folded bit of paper. "Good fortune," he read out.

"I make my own fortune," Reborn answered coolly.

Haru's face was hidden beneath the Namahage mask, but Tsuna definitely felt a sunny aura coming from her. "Hahi, that's okay, Reborn-chan! And Sawada-san, you are in luck! I just hired another casual this morning but I'm looking for someone who can work on the weekends, and Mondays and Wednesdays, when I have uni!"

Tsuna handed her his CV. Eccentricity aside, Haru was very friendly, and the store did feel welcoming. "I can work on weekends and Mondays. I've also got a mid-semester break coming up so I'll be more available," he said.

"Ah, you're a student too! We attend the same university! That's wonderful, Sawada-san! Hahi, there are customers behind the counter, I will be right back!"

"And I'm buying that espresso machine next door," Reborn announced and disappeared inside the department store.

Tsuna rolled his eyes and examined the store's range of ridiculously overpriced pens. Nearby, the customers were a familiar pineapple-haired man wearing a black suit and Dokuro, the one-eyed girl who had contributed absolutely nothing to Tsuna's English group assignment. They were buying an assortment of Copic markers, and when Pineapple pulled out his wallet, she pushed it away. With slight hurt betraying his features, he wandered over to Tsuna.

"We meet again," the man greeted as if he had all the time in the world. "Hello, Tsunayoshi."

"Um hi, Pineapple."  _Crap_. It was bad manners but Tsuna had completely forgotten his name. He vaguely remembered that his first name had rhymed with his surname.

"It's Rokudo Mukuro," Pineapple corrected, his smile a bit too forced. "I see you are applying for a job here."

"Uh yeah," Tsuna replied, sticking in his earbuds in hopes that Mukuro would leave him alone.

"Kufufufu. Customer service is an extremely valuable skill. It will take you far in life."

"I'll keep that in mind. I'm sure it has been most useful in your...career choices." Not that Tsuna was really in a position to judge. Drug dealers made a shitton of money, money Tsuna would never see unless he became a mafia boss or won the lottery.

"Precisely," Mukuro replied, checking his text messages on his Samsung Galaxy 8 Plus. It was a gorgeous phone. Tsuna hated him. "We all have to start from somewhere."

That was exactly what Reborn had said. "And where was that?" Tsuna asked, although he wasn't sure if wanted to know the answer.

Mukuro glanced up and smirked at him eerily. "How did I learn customer service? Oh, by stabbing people and pulling out their organs, I think."


	13. Chasing After Dreams

**Semester 1, Week 6**

It was the last week of classes before the mid-semester break, and Tsuna was already in holiday mode. His brain had long since degraded to mush, and he wanted nothing more than to become a couch potato and vegetate.

Still, he had one last lecture. Gathering every ounce of willpower, he pushed the doors to the lecture theatre, holding onto his sagaccino for dear life.

"Glad to have you join us, Sawada," the English lecturer announced a little too pleasantly, her smile shooting arrows through Tsuna's chest.

Tsuna turned a shade of beetroot and hurried to a vacant seat. The lectures were  _recorded_ goddamn it, and he didn't need every student in the course to know that he'd rocked up ten minutes late. Or that he knew absolutely nothing about this course even though they were halfway through the semester.

His mood soured further when he noticed the multitude of empty seats in the lecture theatre. In fact, only five students had bothered to show up. The rest had probably decided to enjoy their Friday afternoon, and Tsuna was stuck in class because Reborn always knew when he skipped. Heck, even Gokudera and Yamamoto were absent.

Tsuna sank heavily into his seat, narrowly missing the chewed gum on the armrest, and finished his coffee. Although Yamamoto tended to miss half his classes because of baseball practice and work, it was unusual to not see his Gokudera religiously taking notes in the front row and arguing with the lecturer. Kurokawa was present and busy working on an essay for a different subject, but Tsuna had no idea who the others were.

He glanced at the clock. There were still forty-five minutes before freedom.  _Forty-five fucking minutes._

' _You traitors_ ,' he texted to his friends. He was about to play Tetris when his phone battery died, along with his soul. With a deep sigh, he switched on his laptop and pulled up his lecture notes. Reborn had somehow hacked into his laptop and blocked all the fun websites. But if Tsuna tried tuning in, maybe he wouldn't have to relive this lecture through the recording.

So the lecturer droned on and on about  _Hamlet_ in English, and the powerpoint displayed a different picture every five minutes. Tsuna could vaguely understand what was going on, mostly because he'd watched film adaptations and read summaries off SparkNotes for the group assignment. It didn't make the experience any less miserable though.

Suddenly a microphone was thrust at his face, and the lecturer was peering down at him, curling her lip with disapproval at his lack of attention. "Sawada, can you tell us the significance of  _Hamlet_ 's Act V Scene I?" she asked, pointing at a picture of skulls on the powerpoint slide.

Tsuna closed his eyes.  _It's okay_ , he told himself. Participation marks were awarded regardless of the quality of the answers, and it wasn't as if he had anything lose. Fuck the rest of his class who were hiding behind their computer screens back at home.

"In that scene, both Hamlet and Laertes jump into a grave and question the meaning of life," Tsuna answered at last, with all the wisdom of Shakespeare he could muster. "And honestly, sensei, I can relate."

A few seats away, Kurokawa burst into laughter.

* * *

"I can't believe both of you skipped English class yesterday," Tsuna huffed when Gokudera and Yamamoto joined his table at Starbucks. "I got called out three times and you're definitely not allowed to judge my shitty responses."

"Sorry I couldn't make it," Gokudera replied sheepishly, looking rather worn-down with his creased shirt and bedraggled hair. "I had an interview with Google and fell asleep on the bus home."

"Woah, congratulations!" Yamamoto said, patting Gokudera's back. "How did it go?"

Gokudera accepted his coffee from the barista and flashed her a grateful smile. "We talked about data mining and the recent Facebook data breach. I'd written a paper on it last week actually, for my research on national security and how it impacts on our right to privacy."

"It must've been a hectic week," Tsuna added, sliding the sugar packets across the table. Sugar was truly the best remedy for fatigue. "Have you had much sleep, Gokudera?"

Their over-achiever friend slapped a hand across his own forehead, his cheeks instantly reddening. Yamamoto suddenly snickered. "So the rumours are true," Yamamoto quipped, his eyes glinting with mischief.

Tsuna gave them puzzled looks. "What rumours?"

Gokudera took a large gulp of his coffee and shook his head. "I can't tell you, I'm bound by confiden-"

"Nah, I heard one of Gokudera's neighbours woke him up at four in the morning because he had a vibrator stuck up his ass," Yamamoto gushed with excitement. "An ambulance came and all, and Gokudera had to deal with it since he's the RA."

"Holy shit, is he okay?" Tsuna asked, cringing inside. He'd honestly thought those incidents only happened on the internet. But apparently that wasn't the case.

"That's just a rumour," Gokudera protested, although the dark circles under his eyes and his flushed cheeks told another story. "Anyway, what was the surprise you had, Yamamoto?"

Yamamoto lit up and leaned forward, eager for the change in topic. "I was going to text you guys the news but I really wanted to do it in person," he began, whipping out his phone. He pulled up an email and all but shoved it at them. "I got accepted into a minor baseball league! One of the recruiters was watching my last tournament and then he sent me this email and we had a chat over coffee about my future!"

"Congratulations, I knew you could do it!" Tsuna exclaimed. Yamamoto was still gazing at the email, his happiness so radiant that it made Tsuna feel warm inside. In that moment, he wanted to jump up and tackle his friend in a hug. And maybe that was what true friendship was - being able to genuinely feel happy for someone's achievements without a hint of envy or malice.

"You've worked hard," Gokudera complimented. "Congratulations!"

"Yeah, I can't believe it. Joining the professional league has always been my dream and it's actually becoming a reality. I think the only person more excited than I am is my old man. He told me to go for it and sign the contract right away!"

"Definitely sign it," Tsuna encouraged, "It's been your dream since middle school!"

Yamamoto chucked lightly. "Since elementary school, actually. I'm moving to Fujiwara next month for training so I'll be postponing my degree at this university."

"Fuck uni, man," Tsuna said, rolling his eyes. He gulped his third coffee for the day, embracing the essence of the student life. "I'm gonna miss you though."

"Good luck, friend," Gokudera said. "Stay in contact."

"Guys, I'm still going to be around for a while! But we should definitely celebrate! Pops wants to invite both of you over and I'm not taking 'no' for an answer! And Tsuna, we gotta celebrate you getting your new job too!"

Tsuna broke into a grin and raised his coffee cup to make a toast. "To a great future ahead," he announced, nudging Gokudera and Yamamoto to do the same.

"To a great future ahead!" Yamamoto cheered. "For the three of us!"

* * *

Tsuna's store manager, Haru, had called him about his training shift the day after his interview. "See you on Saturday at midday, Sawada-san!" she had told him rather unhelpfully, after his onslaught of panicked questions. "All you need to bring is your best smile and enthusiasm, desu!"

That had been it. No paperwork, no follow-up email, no contract with a million terms and condition in fine print. Tsuna was half expecting to rock up to work and be told it was all a joke.

"I need your help," he whined to Reborn as soon as he'd taken off his shoes and dumped his backpack by his desk. He set down a box of macarons in front of his hitman tutor and made a beeline for the new espresso machine. He'd become rather adept at using it too, and knew how to brew coffee exactly the way Reborn liked it.

Reborn hopped onto the table and examined the box, humming with approval at the coffee flavoured treats. "You're nervous about your first day of work tomorrow," he observed, before taking a bite.

"It's my first time working, so naturally I'd be nervous," Tsuna retorted. "I don't even know what to wear! And what if I fuck up? What if I'm clumsy at work, or don't get along with my coworkers?"

Reborn tilted his head. "Then you take responsibility and learn from your mistakes."

Tsuna groaned and pulled at his hair. "You need more caffeine and sugar," he declared, pouring his tutor a cup of freshly made espresso and handing him another macaron. "Seriously though. I'm freaking out."

"If you can't handle a simple retail job, then how could you become a mafia boss?"

" _Touch_ _é_ , Reborn! I know I'm overthinking things!" Tsuna amended, shooting his tutor a dirty glare. "But I have  _anxiety_  and it's not going away! You know what, I could probably find some advice on Google and check the store's website to gain some product knowledge. That's  _something_ at least."

"I see you are making good use of your mid-semester break, Tsuna," Reborn replied, smirking right at him as he downed the espresso in one shot. "A strong improvement since the day I arrived."

Tsuna wanted to slam his head against the table, but behind his tutor's smugness was something more - an unmistakable hint of pride. And just like that,  _hope_  blossomed in his chest, and all his snarky remarks dissolved, replaced by guilt.

Despite being a terrible student, Reborn had stayed by his side all this time with patience and tenacity, correcting his essays and drilling information into him until he understood. Sometimes that had taken all night. Sometimes that had taken days. And things had clearly improved - Tsuna now submitted his assignments on time, and he was on top of his lectures. With his tutor's help, he'd even landed his first job!

How could Tsuna have taken it all for granted? How could he have wanted to regress and undo all the time and effort Reborn had put in to help him grow and develop into a more capable person?

"Yeah, you're right," Tsuna agreed, turning away so his tutor wouldn't see the tears prickling at his eyes. "I think I can do this. No, I  _can_  do this. I... _thank you_ , Reborn. For everything."


	14. Welcome to Retail Hell

**Mid-semester break**

Reborn accompanied Tsuna to the mall the next day as moral support. Or rather, Tsuna had dragged him out of the house by bribing him with another cup of espresso. His hitman tutor was even kind enough to keep his snarky remarks in check as they headed over to heARTbox, the stationery store with a gigantic pink store sign in the shape of a love heart.

"Good luck," Reborn said, giving Tsuna's shoulder a squeeze. Before Tsuna could freak out, Reborn kicked him into the store, triggering a jingle of chimes that sent tingles down his spine.

Tsuna flung his head back to protest, but Reborn had already disappeared into the traffic of eager shoppers. Gulping heavily, Tsuna attempted to fix his hair, which Reborn had forced him to trim, and tugged at the hem of his black collared shirt.

"Welcome to heARTbox!" a cheerful voice greeted from behind a massive stack of delivery boxes behind the counter. "Hahi, I'm glad you're here, Sawada-san! How was your morning?"

Haru had ditched her namahage costume that day, revealing herself as a petite brunette about Tsuna's height. For someone who had seemed so eccentric during their past exchanges, she was as polished and professional as Tsuna would imagine any store manager to be. Her bright personality was also disarming, and Tsuna quickly found himself easing out of his deer-in-headlights mode.

"Good afternoon, Miura-san," he answered with an awkward bow. "My morning's been, uh, great. It's nice waking up to no class and it's the midsem break so I have no lectures or tutorials for two weeks."

Haru was about to reply, when a delivery man entered the store with a trolley of twenty boxes. After instructing Tsuna to find his uniform in the open storeroom - a medium grey apron with heARTbox's logo embroidered onto the breast pocket - she hurried off to assist the delivery man, who was filling up half the store with large brown boxes.

It was almost comical watching Haru dash through the maze of boxes that was much taller than her. Finally, Tsuna joined her behind the counter, eyeing the stack of invoices and customer order forms by the computer that looked way too complicated for his exhausted brain.

"Hahi, you look so cute in that apron!" Haru complimented. She handed him a pink notebook and a ballpoint pen shaped like a quill, which fit perfectly inside the apron. "Alright, Sawada-san, let's get started. Your employee code is..."

* * *

Tsuna's co-worker, who was also new to heARTbox, was rostered to come in at 1 pm. Five minutes before the start of his shift, a thin young man rocked up, wearing a cow-print shirt and reeking of deodorant. And this  _very familiar_  teenager instantly reminded Tsuna of egregiously bad singing, weed and STDs.

"Yo, what up fam," Lambo drawled, running a hand through his dishevelled black hair with one eye closed. "Our manager's kind of cute, don't ya reckon?"

Haru, who was assisting a customer over the phone, was thankfully out of earshot. "I've been okay," Tsuna answered, deliberately ignoring Lambo's question as he handed his co-worker another grey apron from the storeroom. "How about you? Are you still living with Gokudera?"

"Nah, I'm staying with my girlfriend. You'll love her by the way - she's like the most wholesome girl I've ever met."

"That's cool, man." Tsuna hoped Lambo's STDs weren't getting in the way. That would've sucked. "So uh, Miura-san's busy right now so I guess we should talk to the customers and see if they need help."

"Gotcha," Lambo said with a wink, before heading over to a group of teenage girls.

Tsuna returned to unboxing the new stock, diligently crossing items off the invoices as he unpacked them. He'd already sustained several cardboard cuts on his hands, and even a bruise on his leg. Unfortunately Reborn's training hadn't managed to eliminate all of his clumsiness.

"Excuse me," a soft voice said politely, nudging Tsuna out of his tunnelled concentration. "Ah, you must be new here - I was wondering if you could help me with my friend's birthday present?"

Tsuna had never turned around so quickly before. "K-Kyoko-chan?" he stammered, his eyes growing wide as he regarded the auburn-haired girl before him. And as fate had it, she was indeed his former classmate and crush, whom he'd lost contact with since graduating from high school.

"Hi, Sawada-san," Sasagawa Kyoko greeted. She was smiling at him, sending butterflies attacking Tsuna's stomach. "I'm glad to see you again. How is life treating you?"

"The usual. You know, uni and work. You?"

"I've been well! I was studying in America last semester, and now I'm interning with the National Police Agency. It's so different from university!" Before Tsuna could wallow in his insecurities at being so unaccomplished in life, Kyoko asked, "Is Haru working today?"

"Yeah, she's on the phone in the backroom. You, uh, wanted help with a present?"

Still beaming, Kyoko pulled two pencil cases from the shelves. "It's Hana-chan's birthday next week, and I'm trying to pick her present. What would you recommend?"

Despite being an employee of heARTbox, Tsuna wasn't the greatest fan of Kurokawa Hana and was probably the wrong person to ask for gift advice. "The pencil cases you're holding are really nice and are our bestsellers," he tried lamely. He scanned the other shelves of ridiculously overpriced stationery. "Maybe this one?" he suggested, showing a black pencil case with a golden tassel attached to its zipper.

Kyoko accepted it thoughtfully, turning it over to see the English words 'Gratitude and Kindness' printed onto the canvas surface in gold cursive. Which Tsuna had totally not selected to throw shade at Kurokawa for being the most pretentious and hypocritical classmate he'd ever had to work with.

" _OH MY GOSH KYOOOOOKO-CHAAAAN!_ "

Haru came flying out of the storeroom and threw herself at the other girl, almost tripping over a stack of boxes. "It has literally been  _years_ since we last had our Cake Appreciation date," she cried. "I've missed you so much, girl! I miss having you as my assistant manager!"

"And I miss working here," Kyoko replied. "The store looks so different. If you're free later this week, we should really catch up, Haru-chan."

Haru grinned. "Now that I have Sawada-san and Lambo-san, I can make time for our next cake date. Look at you, chasing after your INTERPOL dream! Oh, and how's your boyfriend by the way?"

Kyoko blinked. "Mochida-kun?" Her face fell. "I-we took a break before I went to America. We talked a bit afterwards but he seems too occupied these days. He joined the Church of Scientology while I was gone."

"The cult that worships an alien?" Tsuna blurted. While he had nothing against Scientology, Mochida had been one of his bullies back in middle school and Tsuna could barely contain his glee that things had ultimately failed between him and his childhood crush.

"For someone who is a guy-magnet, you are so unlucky in love, Kyoko-chan," Haru mourned, patting her friend on the shoulder. "The Mormon you dated before Mochida was so beautiful though."

"Elder Kamiyama was going on a mission to the Sahara Desert the last time I heard from him."

"Yeah, because he was totally gay for your brother and couldn't take the subsequent emotional confusion," Haru snorted. "But he was so handsome."

"Maybe that's the reason why you're so unlucky in love," Lambo commented, smoothly sliding into their conversation. "Statistics show that beautiful people like yourself find it more difficult to last in romantic relationships."

Kyoko gave him a bemused glance. "Then what should I do?"

Lambo slung an arm across Tsuna's shoulders. "This guy's pretty chill. Definitely not a looker, but not hideous either. Semi-intelligent, kinda responsible and he clearly has the hots for you."

" _Hiiiiiiiie!_  Not in a creepy way!" Tsuna said quickly, fighting the inevitable blushing as three pairs of eyes bore into his soul. He nudged Lambo in the side. Worst. Wingman. Ever.

"I think Hana-chan will like this," Kyoko said at last, showing Haru the pencil case Tsuna had picked out. Haru smiled warmly, and gestured for Tsuna to process the sale at the counter.

With slightly trembling hands, Tsuna typed in his staff code and scanned in the item, trying not to mull over Kyoko's implied rejection. Such was life. Besides, he should probably work on himself before he considered dating anyone else.

* * *

When the customer walked in, Tsuna gave him four seconds before he commenced his customer service routine.

Gulping down the rush of nervousness, he stepped away from the counter and smoothed out the front of his uniform apron. He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair.  _Smile?_  Check.  _Open body posture?_ Check.  _Sanity?_  Questionable.

He slowly approached the customer and began neatening up a nearby shelf of notebooks. Haru had instructed them to always look busy, even though this was the first customer they'd had in the last two hours. He hummed along to the bubblegum pop playing through the speakers, to appear as if he was having fun, even though all he wanted was to run back home and hide in bed and forget that responsibility was a thing.

 _No_ , Tsuna told himself, clenching his fists with resolve. It was scary working in the store alone, but he could do this. Haru had believed in him when she'd hired him.  _Have confidence. This isn't hard._

The customer was wearing a black coat with a hint of vermillion on his sleeve. Tsuna couldn't really see him from behind the fountain pen display. It was only when he was a metre away when he recognised the red and yellow armband, the man's aquiline nose and those steely grey eyes that made Tsuna want to drop down and curl into a ball.

It was Hibari Kyouya, the demon of Namimori, and he was shooting Tsuna the evil side-eye.

"W-Welcome to heARTbox!" Tsuna squeaked out, white as paper and quivering at his knees. Even after all those years, he still wanted to piss his pants at the sight of Hibari. "C-Could I help you with anything?"

"No." Without another word, Hibari's gaze drifted back to the fountain pens, stopping at the piece in the centre - a 300 000 yen gold-plated pen encrusted in Swarovski crystals. The same price as a semester's worth of textbooks.

In that moment, Tsuna knew that Hibari was going to smash the glass display cabinet because the demon he remembered from middle school always took what he wanted. And as a lowly employee with a black belt in losing fights, Tsuna was absolutely going to get bitten to death.

Haru had gone off to sort out the store's banking, and Lambo - that little shit - was spending an eternity in the bathroom. Furthermore, Tsuna had no idea what the mall's security number was, and he was pretty sure that he'd die before he could even make the call.

Hibari suddenly snapped his head around. "Do I know you?" he asked, his voice sharp, frigid and definitely annoyed.

Tsuna's gut was crawling with anticipation, but he found the strength to shake his head. It was for the best that Hibari didn't recognise him. Scrunching up his face, Tsuna blurted out the rest of his speech -  _So um yeah, just to let you know, we have a three for the price of two offer right now, let me know if you need a hand kthanxbye_  - before he practically ran back to the counter.

Hibari could take the pen. Haru had vaguely informed him about the armed robbery protocol. The store was insured, but Tsuna's life wasn't. Suddenly the stack of invoices beside the computer seemed a lot more interesting.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Hibari Kyouya left the store with his tonfas still hidden in his sleeves. The pen continued to glisten under the lights, clueless of the fate it had just escaped.

It occurred to Tsuna much later, after Haru had returned with three giant coffees and Lambo had returned from the bathroom with suspiciously flushed cheeks, that Hibari had been wearing his Namimori Middle School uniform. Even after six years, the fucker had not graduated.

Naturally, Tsuna had to text his friends about it.


	15. Finding a Sugar Daddy

**Mid-semester break**

"You're sulking," Lambo drawled as they waited for the bus to take them back to the suburbs after work. The teenager leaned against the glass and puffed out a cloud of smoke, blatantly dismissing the no-smoking sign. "If this is about that chick, then you gotta chill, bro."

"I'm fine," Tsuna replied, idly scrolling through Snapchat advertisements. ' _15 Signs That She is Into You_ ,' the first one read. He ignored it, only for it to be followed by ' _How to be a Seriously Good Kisser_ ' and ' _5 Must Try Positions in Bed_.' Either Snapchat assumed every guy was horny, or his apps were secretly stalking his browser cookies.

Lambo offered him a cigarette, which Tsuna waved away. He was too broke to afford a nicotine addiction anyway. Unfortunately his coworker then crossed his arms and appeared  _offended_. "You're definitely mad at me," Lambo accused, huffing with indignation.

Well, Tsuna  _was_ still a tad salty after Lambo's unsolicited comments when Kyoko had visited, and the caustic dissection of his character had been hurtful. But there hadn't been any malicious intent and Tsuna really needed to work on being less petty, so he was prepared to let it go.

Lambo sighed dramatically and patted Tsuna's head in a condescending manner. "You're going to be forever alone, dude. You give up too easily."

"At least I won't have STDs," Tsuna retorted, scowling at the ' _Proven Ways to Make Her Climax_ ' ad. Also, why did Snapchat assume he was straight? He could appreciate hot men, especially rich hot men who were about to die, leaving billions of American dollars to be inherited. And why would anyone date a fellow university student when they could have a sugar daddy?

"I don't like condoms," Lambo complained. "But dude, that's like part of the college experience. You gotta be more outgoing. Try new things. Get out of your comfort zone, get laid and  _chill_."

"So you're like a fuckboy," Tsuna deadpanned, locking his phone screen. Too much internet for today.

"Do you even know what a fuckboy is? Anyway that's beside the point - what I'm saying is, I know how this stuff works, and I can help you out."

No, Tsuna didn't really know what a fuckboy was, and he quite  _literally_ didn't give a fuck. He barely had any free time outside of classes, training and work, and if he did, he was busy procrastinating on his couch eating chicken nuggets and a jar of Nutella.

The bus arrived on time, and Tsuna had never been more overjoyed to leap to his feet. Suddenly an arm slung across his back, coupled by the stench of cigarette smoke. Tsuna tensed, memories of school bullying flashing across his mind, before he was all but dragged into a two-seater by a beaming Lambo.

"Lemme make it up to you," his coworker insisted, his right eye dropping into a sleazy wink. "Promise that next Valentine's, you'll be dripping wet between the sheets and some more from all that chocolate sex you'll be having."

* * *

By outrageous coincidence, Lambo's girlfriend worked at the Chinese restaurant a short walk away from Tsuna's house. Apparently she lived in Namimori too, and Lambo wanted to walk her home after her evening shifts. Lambo had also mentioned that I-Pin was a martial arts expert, leading Tsuna to suspect that the teenager really just didn't have a key to her place.

So to kill time, and to start on this new project, Lambo followed Tsuna back to his house. Nana was more than delighted that Tsuna had made another friend. Little did she know that the teenager would soon corrupt whatever amount of purity Tsuna had in his soul before university had sucked most of it away.

"Take off your shirt," Lambo commanded, after stuffing Tsuna into the bathroom and locking the door behind them. "You're taking an 'I just got back from the gym' selfie."

Tsuna stared at him. "You're fucking kidding me, right?"

Lambo rolled his eyes. " _Surely_  you have a six-pack from all that training. You're not that scrawny anymore."

"Of course he has a six-pack," Reborn interrupted, descending from the bathroom ceiling vent in a dramatic shower of dust and cobwebs. "Tsuna will have an eight-pack by next month."

Tsuna hugged his arms across his chest and shrank back, feeling exposed. "Reborn, can you please not!" he whined, everpresent heat burning in his cheeks. Then he whirled onto Lambo, who had started this goddamn embarrassing mess. "Aren't you here to kill my hitman tutor?!"

The teenager peered at his own mirror reflection and tamed his mop of curly hair with some mousse. "Dude, that was so last year. Make love, man, not war."

"I'm not taking off my shirt," Tsuna insisted, glaring at them both. Reborn was clearly smirking at him, enjoying his pain as he always did. "I feel very uncomfortable and this goes against my personal core values. Selfies represent the epitome of  _egregious vainglory_  and as the head of this house and future mafia boss, I  _order_ you two to leave this bathroom!"

Lambo scratched the back of his neck and sighed. "You got no chill. But whatever, man. I've got another plan."

As they trailed out of the bathroom behind Lambo, Tsuna quickly snapped his head around and grinned at his hitman tutor. ' _I can't believe that worked!_ ' he mouthed, feeling a rush of giddiness. It was like that time he conned an underclassman into buying his textbooks - lord knew what 'egregious' or 'vainglorious' had meant, but Gokudera had used those words, so Tsuna was now clearly an intellectual and top mafia boss material.

* * *

" _This_  is your plan?" Tsuna shrieked as he sprang away from his neighbour's fence, staying  _very far away_  from their demonic chihuahua. The creature jumped up the steel bars, baring its teeth and lashing out its tongue. Even its eyes gleamed red, full of malice, madness and bloodlust.

Reborn hopped off Tsuna's head and stuck his tiny hands through the fence. He patted the beast on its head. "Good boy," he said, totally unaware that the chihuahua was plotting to dismember his infant body and save half of it for supper.

"Very good boy," Lambo agreed, crouching down beside the hitman tutor. "You see, girls really dig guys with dogs. Makes you seem more approachable, and gives them an excuse to slide into your DMs and come over to your place. If you're not gonna post a six-pack selfie, then you gotta have a dog in it."

"But it's not even my dog!" Tsuna protested, yelping as the chihuahua snarled at him. The demon  _remembered_. The demon held grudges. And the demon would punish him for feeding it Bianchi's purple cookies two weeks ago. "It's not even cute!"

"Dude, you're like the only person in the world who's terrified of a tiny dog," Lambo deadpanned, giving Tsuna the side-eye. He climbed up the brick wall without breaking a sweat and disappeared into the neighbouring property. Moments later, he returned with the demon in his arms and bits of gardenia stuck in his hair.

"I'm not touching that!" Tsuna screamed, stepping back towards the edge of the road. Before he got there, he tripped over a dug up pit in the grass and landed tail-first onto some moist dog shit. That  _motherfucker-_!

"This will be corrected soon," Reborn commented calmly, pulling his fedora over his eyes. "A mafia boss cannot be afraid of dogs."

Lambo smacked his hand across his forehead and set down the chihuahua. It ran over to Reborn and obediently sat at his feet. "Yeah, man. Even Photoshop can't fix those facial expressions. Last resort - does Tsuna have a suit?"

* * *

Tsuna, in fact, did have a suit. It was a decently expensive suit that he had always planned to wear to Iemitsu's funeral, but due to his lack of formal functions and interviews, it was actually gathering dust in his mother's closet. To Tsuna's pleasant surprise, the jacket was no longer too large, and Reborn had fixed his spiky brown hair with gel to make him more presentable.

Nevertheless, Tsuna thought he looked pretty damn good. Reborn was all smug again, Nana was obsessively taking photos and Lambo was giving him advice on how to pose. After ten minutes of browsing through the collection, they narrowed it down to one, and fought over which filter to use. Finally, the new profile picture was uploaded to Tinder and it was time to write an enticing bio.

' _Final year university student_ ,' Tsuna tried, because that sounded better than being a retail assistant. ' _Seeking-_ '

"Dude, save that shit for LinkedIn," Lambo cut in. "If you're trying to get some fuck, at least make that clear. Write something like ' _Young, dumb and ready to cum_.'"

"What the actual fuck, Lambo? That's totally not appropriate-"

"For someone who talks in innuendo, Tsuna is actually very innocent," Reborn observed, his onyx eyes glinting with amusement. "And he is well aware of that."

"R-Reborn -  _s-shut up!_ "

* * *

As soon as Tsuna's profile was set up, Lambo's girlfriend called and he went off to pick her up. Although he was glad to be relieved of the teenager's antics, it had admittedly been fun. More fun than the usual evening plans anyway.

"So...training?" Tsuna asked, sinking into his couch. He was still wearing his suit, and while it displaced him from his comfort zone, the outfit was kind of empowering. It made him feel less lost in life and more professional like Gokudera and Reborn. He didn't want to change into a T-shirt and shorts just yet and return to being No-Good Tsuna.

To his surprise, Reborn took a seat on the armrest. "After dinner," he answered. Maybe it had something to do with Reborn not wanting to ruin the hairstyle he'd worked his magic on. "Let's see the results."

Tsuna couldn't hold back a grin. "Here goes nothing," he said, before proceeding to swipe right on everyone who appeared on his screen. Ladies and gentlemen of all ages and backgrounds, because love had no boundaries. But mostly because sugar daddies and mummies tended to be middle aged men and women.

The first match appeared three seconds later, to another university student who was on exchange from America. With slightly trembling hands, Tsuna entered the conversation, wondering what the heck he should say when a message popped up, followed by an audio clip:

' _I have a very important question and our future relationship depends on it. Laurel or Yanny?_ '

Tsuna glanced at Reborn questioningly as he listened to the recording. ' _Um, Laurel?_ ' he typed.

' _It's Yanny. We cannot be friends. Bye._ '

It had taken under a minute to get his first rejection. Tsuna wondered if it was some kind of world record. But he still had an hour until dinner, so he might as well play it out.

* * *

"Holy shit, I think I've finally found a sugar daddy candidate," Tsuna announced forty minutes later, bursting out of his bedroom and into the living room where Reborn had set up his office. After a series of unsuccessful attempts at conversing with Tinder girls and guys alike, his hitman tutor had gone off to spend his time more productively. Which was probably a good thing, considering that half the men Tsuna chatted with sent dick pics, eggplant emojis or bluntly asked to fuck.

Reborn was on his tablet, most likely reading the news or studying chameleon diets as he usually did. "Is that so," he replied without looking up.

"Yeah, he's 28 and a business consultant who speaks English, Italian, French and a bunch of other languages and he's fucking  _loaded_. His net worth is basically the same as the CEO of Facebook, and he started and grew his business all on his own!"

His hitman tutor tilted his head. "He sounds like a respectable man. What is his name?"

"Renato Sinclair. We matched like fifteen minutes ago, and he - he just  _gets me_ , you know? He's not like the others. And I've got to show you his picture." Tsuna shoved his phone in front of Reborn's tablet. "Have I mentioned that he's handsome as hell?"

"He is very good looking indeed," Reborn agreed, zooming in to admire the dark haired man's finer features. "Those are some excellent sideburns and I approve of his professional yet mysterious demeanour."

"I know, right? And he's got this badass tattoo on his back! It says ' _People die if they are killed_ ' in Latin!"

His hitman tutor was nodding along. "Wise words to live by," he said solemnly.

"Yeah, I guess so. He had to go, but he said we'll talk again. I really hope we can talk again, because he's a really interesting person. But…"

"But what?"

"But I know it's too good to be true," Tsuna answered mournfully. "It makes no sense that a gorgeous and wealthy man like Renato Sinclair would live near Namimori, or even be single. So he's either a sham, a psychopath or a serial killer."

Reborn refused to meet his student's eyes. "Most definitely a serial killer," he murmured inaudibly, stroking Leon under the chin. "And he was -  _is_ \- the world's best."


	16. Wine Me, Dine Me, 69 Me

**Semester 1, Week 8**

' _Wine me, dine me, 69 me_ ,' Tsuna had told Renato Sinclair when the latter had asked him about his life goals and aspirations. He'd left out the eggplant emoji for that message, to keep it professional. Renato had then ghosted him for a week, probably busy with his multi-billion coin business. When he re-emerged, Tsuna had practically jumped on him and asked him out.

He would have to be absurd to let his potential sugar daddy run away, and this was one of those situations where Tsuna refused to accept 'no' for an answer. ' _I will make a reservation for us at La Baguette_ ,' Renato had finally acquiesced. They were to meet on Saturday evening at six, at a French restaurant by the Midori foreshore. Then the chat went dead.

Nonetheless, Tsuna was already at the restaurant fifteen minutes before six, being led to a reserved table for two under his date's name. He was back in his suit, styled with a lilac silk tie and a white pocket square. And he was  _glad_ he'd dressed up, because the restaurant turned out to be in the same building as a multinational consulting firm and he was surrounded by litigation lawyers and their crazy rich clients.

Tsuna stared at his phone screen to block them out. He wasn't interested in politics or business negotiations over cargo ships. Unfortunately he'd seen all the new updates on social media accounts, and both Yamamoto and Gokudera were last seen online four hours ago.

"So what brings  _you_ here?" a female voice cut in, snapping Tsuna back to reality.

Kurokawa Hana, in a sheath dress and blazer, had taken the seat opposite Tsuna and was peering at him with her usual look of disdain. It was just his luck that they had to bump into each other outside of English class. It made sense that she was here though - she'd never held back from bragging that her parents were partners for this particular firm, whatever that had meant.

"I have a date," Tsuna said quickly, averting his gaze and lowering his head so she wouldn't see his blushing. He was in a public place, he reminded himself. He had every right to be at the restaurant, and Renato was probably just stuck in traffic and would be here any moment.

"Well they're late, aren't they?" Kurokawa flipped her phone around, so he could see the time. It was 6:07pm. "Poor No-Good Tsuna, stood up on his first date," she mocked condescendingly.

 _Don't let her get to you._ Tsuna returned his attention to his phone, half-heartedly scrolling through his DMs with Renato. Was he really going to show up? If he was running late, surely he'd message Tsuna beforehand, right?

Kurokawa suddenly leaned forward, pressing her palms onto the table. "It's rude to ignore someone when they are talking to you, you know," she sneered. "Let me guess - you thought you could find  _the one_  on Tinder, and went out with the first person who swiped right for you."

"Get out of my seat," another voice interrupted, so frigid it cut through Tsuna like a knife. But without warning, he was also flooded by relief - he couldn't be happier seeing his hitman tutor perched on the edge of the table, with his arms crossed and evil onyx eyes promising death.

Kurokawa wrinkled her nose, cringing at the presence of a child. "Your date doesn't show up, so you have an infant take his place? That's next level desperate, No-Good Tsuna. It's giving me  _hives_."

"Don't you dare speak to Reborn that way," Tsuna snapped, glaring back and crossing his arms to mirror Reborn. "This is none of your business. And for your information,  _Reborn is a better person than you will ever be_."

His classmate tossed her hair behind her shoulder with a scoff. "No wonder Kyoko rejected you," were her venomous last words. "You've barely changed since middle school, No-Good Tsuna."

Once she'd stormed off, Tsuna buried his head in his hands. "Thank god you're here, Reborn," he mumbled. "Why did I think this was a good idea? I was just going to embarrass myself tonight. I'm such a failure. I mean, I don't even know what all this cutlery is for…"

His hitman tutor poured a glass of mineral water and handed it Tsuna. "You are not an embarrassment or failure," he said firmly. He realigned the silverware Kurokawa had knocked astray. "It's not your fault."

Tsuna sighed and sunk into his seat. He checked his phone one last time and resolutely tucked it inside his pocket. "I guess Renato's not coming," he answered, taking the glass. "A date with my hitman tutor it is."

"Will you be okay with that?"

Tsuna shrugged. It wasn't as if he had much to lose anyway. He didn't  _need_ a sugar daddy, and even if he ended up forever alone, at least he'd have more money and time to spend on himself.

Then he chuckled. "You know, Reborn, this kinda reminds me of something I said to Gokudera, like ages ago."

"About that girlfriend of yours?" The smirk on Reborn's face was infuriating. Tsuna really shouldn't have been surprised that his tutor  _knew_. "Let me guess - Italian, dark-haired and with the sexiest sideburns you've ever seen?"

"You make it sound like I have sideburn fetish," Tsuna protested, blushing a little.

Thankfully a waiter arrived at their table, interrupting the awkward change of topic. Tsuna gaped in wonder as a large cushion was placed on Reborn's chair, and the fabric napkins were spread across their laps.

"I've never been to a classy white people restaurant," he admitted, eyeing the neighbouring tables where everyone was dining as if they weren't confused by the half-a-dozen utensils. "I feel so out of place. And the menu is completely in French!"

"Order anything you want - it's my treat," Reborn answered, already going through the leather-bound menu. "Tonight will be a lesson on dining etiquette...and French."

* * *

 

It was eight by the time they returned to Namimori. Upon arriving home, Reborn disappeared into his study and Tsuna flopped onto the living room couch, his face glowing from that glass of wine he had during dinner. He was ready to forget about tomorrow's exam and veg out in front of the television, when the doorbell suddenly rang.

"You should answer it," Reborn called out, poking his head out from the corner with his tablet in his hands.

"Yeah alright," Tsuna replied with a groan, rolling off the couch despite wanting nothing more than to pretend nobody was home. When he opened the door, he was greeted with a whiff of cigarette smoke, and the sight of three figures loitering on his porch.

"Hey man, so I heard you wanted to get lit tonight," Lambo drawled, lifting a convenience store bag holding four bottles of booze. "Hiya, Maman," he added when Nana wandered downstairs in pyjamas and fluffy slippers.

Of course his mother was delighted that Tsuna had brought friends over. But since when did he invite them to his house? "I'm good, but...come in I guess?"

Gokudera bent down to pick up the cigarette he'd crushed under his dress shoe. "Yamamoto and I were instructed to come here by the hitman," he explained reluctantly. He scowled at Lambo's insouciant demeanour. "The stupid cow bumped into us along the way and decided to tag along."

"Sounds like fun!" Yamamoto exclaimed. "I'm just about finished packing my stuff so my dad's cool with me going out."

Gokudera's expression turned apologetic. "I tried to reason that you have an exam tomorrow, and that Yamamoto's moving out this weekend, but Reborn...you know…"

So Reborn was behind this, after all. But months of training with his hitman tutor had taught Tsuna to just go along with things, because the alternative was always more painful. Besides, he'd just had an awesome dinner with Reborn, so surely things would turn out okay, right?

"Dude, can we like get drunk already?" Lambo complained, making annoyed gestures with his hands. "This better be worth my time, coz I finally managed to convince my girlfriend to play Fortnite with me."

"Ciaossu." Tsuna barely blinked when the infant hitman climbed on top of his head. "Gokudera, do you have your car ready?"

Gokudera crushed the cigarette between his fingers and averted his gaze. "Yeah," he replied, bristling under Reborn's stare. "The scope's in the trunk with the ropes."

"What the actual fuck, Reborn?" Tsuna deadpanned, as his mother handed him his orange hoodie and ushered him out of the door with a sunny smile. "I seriously hope you didn't kidnap anyone. Or worse,  _killed_ them."

Reborn's smirk was unnerving. "I'll bring Tsuna back in the morning, Maman," he told her sweetly, dodging Tsuna's question.

Nana waved at them, without a trace of worry. "Have a good night, boys! I'll have breakfast and apple juice ready when you return home!" she chirped.

"Alright then, let's go," Reborn said all too gleefully.

* * *

 

Gokudera didn't just have a car - he had a fucking four-seat Ferrari that gleamed under the moonlight and smelt like new leather and tobacco. It felt like entering another dimension when Tsuna stepped inside, and he was so paranoid about leaving nail marks on the seats and bringing in dust and Lambo literally shoved a bottle of vodka at his face and told him to chill.

"Nice car, Gokudera," Yamamoto said, stating the obvious. "Road trip!  _Yeet!_ "

"Are we there yet?" Lambo asked, already halfway through his own bottle despite the car having barely left the driveway.

"I think the real question is  _where_ we're going," Tsuna corrected, whipping out his phone to take his Ferrari-selfie. At the last second, Yamamoto dove in to photobomb.

"You will find out when we arrive," Reborn answered mysteriously. "I've told Gokudera not to say a word."

So they drove in the dark, jamming along to the radio and drooling over the Ferrari's stereo system. Lambo's singing made Tsuna almost beg Leon to morph into a gun and shoot him through the head. As tempting as it was, Tsuna abstained from drinking, because he was pretty sure that this was a training exercise and he'd rather make it home with his limbs intact.

Gokudera stopped the car an hour later, and they stepped back into the night. Tsuna switched on his phone torch and shivered at the sound of buzzing insects, wishing he'd had enough warning to pack his mosquito repellant.

"This is Death Mountain," Reborn announced, pointing at the mammoth mountain while they took in their surroundings. It ironically looked closer to heaven, despite its ominous shadows. "We will climb it and stargaze at the summit. Tsuna, you will carry the telescope. I will go with Yamamoto."

Tsuna glanced at Lambo with worry. Four empty bottles of vodka were littered at the latter's feet. "The hike looks pretty steep and the last twenty metres requires climbing. I don't think it's safe, Reborn."

"I second that," Gokudera said. "It's a dark path too."

"Nah look man, four bottles ain't enough to even get me tipsy. I'm too broke to get drunk," Lambo demurred.

Reborn's smile was smug. "If anything happens to any of you, Tsuna will come to your rescue. Isn't that right, Tsuna?"

Tsuna faltered, the burden of ensuring their safety making his knees tremble. "Wait a minute, that's a huge responsibility-" he began. He quickly cut himself off. "I mean, of course I will!" he corrected.

It honestly felt like Reborn was holding his friends hostage. Gokudera has recently undergone surgery for taking bullets to the chest, Lambo was clearly inebriated and Yamamoto...

"Sounds like an adventure!" Yamamoto said, securing Reborn onto his shoulders before helping Tsuna tie the gigantic telescope onto his back. "We're counting on you, Tsuna!"

...but Reborn always calculated the risks and knew of Tsuna's limits. If he believed this mountain climb and descent was going to be safe, then maybe he should believe it too. He'd passed all of Reborn's challenges so far, hadn't he? And fuck it, if the worst happened, Tsuna would be skipping tomorrow's exam at least.

"Yo dude, can we get going before the sun goes up?" Lambo drawled.

 _You're not an embarrassment or failure_ , Reborn had told him.

Tsuna tightened the ropes around his torso and faced the mountain. He sucked in a deep breath and smiled. "Alright guys, to the top we go!"


	17. No Waifu No Laifu

**Finals Week**

As a terrible student, Tsuna knew all the dirty secrets of the examination hall. He knew exactly how many bricks were in the room, which students were screwed, and how the elderly invigilators killed their time. They were observational skills he had developed after hours of waiting for the shrill 'Pens down!' with an empty writing booklet, and Tsuna could only sigh when he sensed the presence of three invigilators standing right behind him, failing to suppress their giggles.

Tsuna knew about the wicked games the invigilators liked to play as they 'supervised' the struggling students. Exam hall  _Pacman_  was a favourite, followed by  _Stand by Me_ , where invigilators stood behind the students they believed were the ugliest and the most likely to fail. Tsuna wanted their job to be honest. But today, despite the unanimous agreement on his deficiencies, he was shocked to discover that his exam paper wasn't quite empty - he'd somehow bullshitted four pages on the history of terrorism in just over an hour.

_That that, bitches!_  he thought triumphantly, feeling the satisfaction of his pen transcribing his ideas for once. He was even tempted to draw a dick on his exam paper, just to piss off the old ladies looming over his shoulder. A big hairy one with blue balls.

"Well, they clearly aren't getting any dick," Yamamoto quipped after the exam, when Tsuna complained about the smell of herbal medicine and soap that had constantly lingered in the air. One had even farted. "They're like,  _really_  old. They've probably shrivelled up down there by now."

Tsuna gagged and tried to block out that thought as he grabbed his backpack and stuffed his student ID card into his pocket. " _Gross_. You know, Lambo and I got hit on by an old lady at work the other day. She kept trying those creepy innuendos on us and stroking the back of our hands. And then she repeatedly dropped her coins for us to pick up."

"Yeah that's not cool," Yamamoto replied, shaking his head. "A customer once smacked my ass while I was serving them. And this other creepy dude tucked some cash into the waistband of my trousers and asked if I wanted to see  _what other tip he could slip inside me_."

"That's actually disgusting. Did you tell him off?"

"Nah. I just took the money, thanked him with a smile and walked to the next table. You know how customer service is in Japan. The customer is always right, and we have to treat them like kings. I heard it's a lot more relaxed in other countries though, like the USA."

Tsuna made a face. "Oh yeah, Lambo mentioned something like that. He got in trouble for swearing at a customer in Italian last week. But the customer - a fifty something-year old woman with an adult son - asked for a selfie with him, as if she'd never seen a white boy before. She was clinging to his arm too. At least her son had the decency to feel embarrassed."

Yamamoto hummed in agreement. They left the examination hall, squinting at the brilliant sunlight outside. It was still early afternoon, but it felt like the day was almost over. "Thank goodness I only have a week of work left before I move into my new dorm. And you're all done with exams for the semester! We should celebrate, Tsuna!"

A flyer fluttered through the air and landed at Tsuna's feet, as if sent by heaven. He crouched down -  _not_  bending over, because he knew better - to flip it over. "Hey, they just opened a bubble tea place on campus. They're doing a two for one deal at the moment. Wanna check it out?"

Yamamoto was keen for it so they headed to the food court to use their coupon, because they were Crazy Poor Asians still living in their parents' basements and with student debts too hefty to afford such luxuries. Which was kind of a lie, but the line was as long as a queue for a Blood & Peppers autograph, meaning that their fellow academic inmates had the same idea.

And  _god_  was it was worth it.

"Bubble tea taught me love," Tsuna moaned half an hour later, slurping the pearls of his regular Thai milk tea with 50% sugar and no ice. He rolled them fondly with his tongue, and closed his eyelids in bliss. It was heaven. It was sin. It was absolute perfection.

"Bubble tea taught me patience," Yamamoto added, nodding gravely at the lengthy queue they had just braved, whilst sipping his hazelnut milk tea and pearls, with 100% sugar and ice.

"And bubble tea taught me pain." Tsuna sat up abruptly as his stomach churned, signalling that diarrhoea was coming. "Fuck my life, Yamamoto,  _I forgot I'm lactose intolerant_."

* * *

On the night before his first final exam, Reborn had taken Tsuna out on a spontaneous road trip. Gokudera had driven them to the rural lands outside Namimori, with Yamamoto and an intoxicated Lambo tagging along. Then they strapped an eight-inch wide telescope to Tsuna's back, before they all proceeded to hike Death Mountain in the pitch black night to stargaze at its summit.

The first couple of minutes were smooth sailing. The ground was relatively even and the vegetation roots would catch them if they tripped. They managed a quarter of the way before the wind picked up. By then, Lambo had more or less sobered, but Gokudera's breathing had become unusually strained. Each time Tsuna turned his head back, his friend was lagging farther behind.

"I'm fine," Gokudera insisted, rolling up the sleeves of his suit jacket. Tsuna's worried gaze lingered on him for another minute, and he slowed his pace so his friend could regain his breath. The ground was getting moist, and his friend's dress shoes were completely unsuited for hiking.

Then it began to rain. Raindrops stabbed at their eyes and added extra weight to their clothing. The upcoming path narrowed and steepened. The ground melted into mud and stable footholds disappeared. A few minutes later, Yamamoto and Lambo stopped in their tracks.

"Shit, it's pouring up here!" Lambo shouted, shielding his face with his hands. "We can't see anything!"

"It's too dangerous," Yamamoto agreed. He wrapped his arms around his torso, visibly shivering.

"Yeah, we should stop!" Tsuna yelled back. He gave Gokudera a hand to boost him over the next ledge. "Reborn, it's too dangerous!"

Reborn merely offered a side glance from Yamamoto's shoulder. Leon had morphed into an umbrella, but only big enough to cover Reborn's head. "The rain will stop. Persevere."

Mud caked Tsuna's fingernails as he struggled to feel for an edge in the rock. His hands were trembling from the cold. "Come on," he muttered to himself. They were closer to the summit now, than to the base. Yamamoto, Lambo and Reborn were about ten metres ahead. Tsuna and Gokudera had just climbed a particularly steep slope, and with the pouring rain, it would be equally risky to head back down.

Gokudera broke into a fit of coughs. "This is madness," he managed uneasily. Tsuna offered him a shoulder, despite the telescope's weight pulling him down. He considered abandoning it to carry his friend instead.

Suddenly a deafening clap of thunder tore through the sky, followed by a flash of lightning. Gokudera's eyes widened, startled, and in that moment, the slippery mud beneath him gave way.

And his friend was falling, falling into the darkness below. Tsuna dropped to his knees and staggered to the edge of the cliff, his heart lurching out of his chest and his own screams drowning out the unforgiving rain.

" _GOKUDERA!_ " He reached out, only to feel air fall through his fingers. With a choked sob, he desperately scanned through the blackness, for any sign of his friend.

_No._

There was a gunshot. Tsuna collapsed, barely shielding his head from the jagged rocks. He rolled to his side, struggling to get up -

" _REEEEEEEEEEEEBOOOOOORN! SAVE GOKUDERA WITH MY DYING WILL!_ "

\- and the next thing he knew, all five of them were on the summit, facing a clear sky free of rain. Lambo was crying and hugging everyone, especially Gokudera, who was staring blankly into the distance. Yamamoto was by his side, offering him water. The telescope lay forgotten on the ground, still covered in plastic.

Tsuna felt numb all over. "We made it," he whispered. He exhaled a shaky breath, unable to believe those words. Tears were flowing down his face. He'd thought he'd lost Gokudera for real this time. "Was that my Dying Will?" he murmured, finally seeing the fresh cuts marring his skin as Reborn sat down beside him.

Leon morphed from his gun form back to a chameleon. "It was your Dying Will," Reborn confirmed, his onyx eyes reflecting the glittering starry sky. "You have climbed Death Mountain and saved Gokudera. If you can do this, you can do well in your exams, Tsuna."

And as always, his tutor had been right.

* * *

Tsuna was working on the day he had his last exam. He bussed straight to the mall after hanging out with Yamamoto, and then settled for a quiet evening. heARTbox rarely had much traffic outside of the gifting season, and with the broken music player, nobody was coming in. Tsuna almost felt bad that he was probably getting paid more than what the store was earning.

"Look, this store's dead, man," Lambo drawled as he returned from his break, reeking of cigarettes once again. He liked to smoke when their manager wasn't working. "I'm going  _insane_."

Tsuna smiled sheepishly and pointed at the stack of training manuals beneath the counter. "Haru says there's always something to do, like improving your product knowledge. You could learn the difference between a G-pen and a Kabura-pen or something."

Lambo wasn't impressed. "How about I undo a couple of buttons and charm some horny grannies into our store?" he retorted. With a smug hair flick, he proceeded to do just that, leaving Tsuna in charge of the feather duster and window cleaner.

'Horny grannies' typically didn't shop late on weekdays though. Twenty minutes later, the two of them had resorted to browsing through memes on the store's computer. Then the assistant manager from the shaver shop next door swung by, complaining that they hadn't had a customer since nine in the morning. Only dank memes could cure his misery.

" _Konnichiwaaaa~! Minna-san, watashi-desu! Kawaii!_ "

Tsuna and Lambo jumped and immediately hit Alt + Tab. They exchanged an alarmed glance and straightened up, smoothing out their aprons and plastering on dazzling smiles.

"Welcome to heARTbox!" Tsuna greeted sunnily, pitching his voice a few tones higher. He beamed at the customer and almost did a double take at his appearance. "D-Did you want a hand with anything?"

The customer was a foreigner about Tsuna's age, with red hair and pale freckled skin. He was in a gundam suit cosplay that was nearly obscured by two gigantic body pillows of Hatsune Miku and an anime girl with pink eyes and black pigtails. Then the kid struck a bizarre pose. " _Watashi_ name is  _Naaaaito-chan._  And this is Pantsu-chan!"

He gestured at the emotionless girl in lolita fashion standing a few metres behind him, as if she wanted nothing to do with him and his eccentricity. "It's Pantera," she deadpanned, her voice surprisingly masculine.

Tsuna blinked with bemusement. " _English?_ " he offered, unsure of how to respond.

" _Italiano_ ," Lambo corrected. He gaped at them in horror. "Oh my god, it's a weeaboo. I never thought I'd ever see an Italian weeaboo in my life."

Tsuna was about to ask what a weeaboo was, when the customer suddenly pointed a finger accusingly at his coworker. "OBJECTION!" he shouted with gusto. " _Watashi_   _wa_   _nihon-jin desu_ because  _watashi_  ate sushi!"

"Um,  _hai_ ," Tsuna replied, stepping back so Lambo could take the full brunt of the customer's rant.

Naito suddenly brightened. He dashed over to his friend, shaking her shoulders with the enthusiasm of a first year uni student who had yet to lose their final exam virginity. " _Nee_ , Pantsu-chan, I told you they'd understand me in Japan! This is my true form! I mean, my true home!"

"It's Pantera," his companion insisted, hiding her face behind her palm. She removed a wet wipe from her bag and began wiping off her makeup.

" _Nani_ the fuck! Pantsu-chan is being  _tsundere_  again," the customer whined. "She must be jealous of my  _waifus_. But  _daijoubu_ , we can still be  _tomodachi!_ "

" _Waifu?_ " Tsuna questioned. "Is that-?"

He almost fell onto his ass when the body pillows were suddenly shoved at his face. " _Waifu!_ " Naito said with a humongous grin. " _Miku-chan desu!_ And _Nico-Nico-nii~!_  So  _kawaii!_ After being dumped by my girlfriends  _watashi_  has finally seen the light - 2D girls are the best girls! Mmmm the best  _oppai!_ "

"Kill it with fire," Lambo moaned, plugging his fingers into his ears. "Wake me from my coffin when it's gone." He retreated from the counter and ran into the store room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Tsuna gave a pained laugh and returned his attention to their overeager customer. " _So we uh have a 20% off storewide sale today excluding gift cards and everything in the glass display cabinets_ ," he quickly said in English, finishing his part of the job. He was glad he had a Google Translate tab open just for these occasions. " _But the store upstairs opposite to Starbucks sells CDs of lolis breathing, if you're interested._ "

He redhead sped off as fast as he'd come, reluctantly trailed by the gloomy Pantera. Tsuna didn't even have the time to tell Naito that the owner of that store was a horny granny with a particular fetish for white boys.


End file.
